


Lift Your Eyes

by CharliesDragon (NebulaStingray)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Friendship, Hogwarts, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 31,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23212783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NebulaStingray/pseuds/CharliesDragon
Summary: Eleven year old Remus Lupin knows he shouldn't be at Hogwarts, it's a risk for everyone, but his professors are of a different opinion and with careful nudging from them, and in time his friends, he slowly begins to accepts he is welcome there, or at least has enough fun to not worry about it all the time. The first chapter sees Professor McGonagall accompany him to the Shrieking Shack during his first full moon at Hogwarts.
Relationships: Remus Lupin & James Potter, Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black & James Potter, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

Eleven year old Remus Lupin stood in Professor McGonagall's office, staring blankly at the desk in between them.

“You remember the arrangements made?” she asked, but the boy merely gave the tiniest of nods. “I will accompany you to the safe house we have arranged. It's protected by every charm and spell myself, Professor Dumbledore and Professor Flitwick know between us, there's no chance of you or anyone else coming to harm.” He nodded again, but didn't look up. Frowning slightly in concern, she opened the biscuit tin on her desk and offered it to him, but he didn't respond. She took a biscuit herself instead and chewed slowly.

“We'll be going through a dirt tunnel to get to the safe house, it might take too long to walk the long way around,” she said and a briskness crept into her voice. This wasn't everyday business for her, either, and she was steeling herself.

“'m sorry,” Lupin mumbled at last and shuffled his feet.

“Don't be,” she said and stood up. She came around the desk and put a hand on his back to turn him towards the door. “You're a bright young man and we're happy to have you as a student.” She began leading him out in the hall and although his mood understandably stayed low, he went by his own machine after a few meters.

“You have told your classmates you're going to St. Mungo's for a check-up after a nasty bout of dragon pox last winter?” she asked as they exited the castle through the large front doors. He nodded again and hunched his shoulder a bit.

“They asked me if I had been green as a toad,” he said quietly, clearly not finding the question as funny as his fellow first year students.

“It's called dragon pox, not toad pox, you might as well have got impressive shadings in red and gold,” she said with a small smile. He looked up at her as she adjusted her hat, a thin ribbon in the Gryffindor colours around the base of it, and he smiled shyly back.

She had been leading the way down the gravel path to the gates, their shadows stretching out to several times their height beside them, but now she stopped and looked straight at him.

“We should be out of view from the castle now, but even so.” She took out her wand and tapped it lightly on his head and he shuddered as the concealment charm took effect, projecting the environment onto him so he looked like he was made of incredibly clear glass. “I will turn into a cat now, and won't be able to give you further instructions. Follow me to the new willow, but stay out of the reach of the branches until I give you a signal that it's clear. Shall we say two meows?”

“Two meows means clear,” Lupin agreed and she thought she saw him smile briefly. Well, it wouldn't hurt for him to laugh more, even if it was at the cost of her dignity. She nodded hard and transformed into the grey tabby that was her animagus form, looked up once at the shimmering, see-through boy, then set off at a confident trot across the lawn.

She stopped a good long way out of the reach of the newly planted willow and surveyed it. It looked like any other willow tree for the most part. She would have been much more fond of Herbology as a whole if it didn't involve so many plants trying to do you in one way or another, like this one, and the tree had already sent five students to the hospital wing in the two weeks since term started. Some people just didn't know their own good, she reflected, knowing all but one of them were prone to risky behaviour.

“Do you want me to wait here, professor?” Lupin asked quietly, hugging his elbows. She looked up at him and gave a slight inclination of her head, it didn't quite work to nod as a cat.

The willow was less likely to attack animals, but she was still on high alert, and not sure the beastly plant didn't somehow know she wasn't really a cat. Sneaking almost on her belly, she listened out for any rustling of leaves, but what she heard seemed to be down to the light breeze and not the tree springing into action. She was about twenty feet from the trunk when she heard the whining approach of a branch and leapt forward, sprinting the rest as more branches beat the ground, but it didn't seem like the willow put that much effort in it; it almost seemed like it was just playfully swatting around.

She came at the tree trunk at high speed and almost ran up it, hitting the knot in the wood to subdue the willow with her back paw and waited for the branches to fall silent again before jumping back down on the ground. Her chest was heaving and her heart hammering, cats really weren't made for more than a short sprint, but gave two clear “miaow!”s into the twilight.

Remus Lupin came jogging to her side and cast a quick look at the sinking sun before looking at the cat. McGonagall inclined her head towards a hole between the roots, then jumped in and waited for the boy to follow.

By the time he had scrambled down she had transformed back and lit her wand to illuminate the low tunnel.

“This is far from the ideal conditions, but means must,” she said and began walking, the top of her hat brushing the ceiling and dislodging a lump of dirt here and there.

“Professor? How – How does it feel when you're a cat?” Lupin asked after a few minutes so quietly it was barely audible over their footsteps.

“It's quite strange,” she admitted, having no trouble understanding why the boy asked. “I walk on four legs, I have much better sight, hearing and sense of smell. But I prefer not to do it too often, it is very strange.”

“Yeah,” the boy breathed behind her.

After a few more minutes she stopped and stood to the side to show him an open trapdoor leading out of the tunnel. He looked up at the gloomy room above, then slowly to the small ladder leading up. He tentatively passed her and ascended.

“We debated if we should leave the furniture or not,” she said when she had followed him up, “but Dumbledore decided you should have the option of some creature comforts.” She saw him wince slightly at the last words. He looked anxiously around the hallway they had entered and the living room off to the side, chewing his lip. After a minute of this she crossed her arms and gave him a stern look.

“It's only – I'll tear them apart,” he gulped and looked at the floor.

“Which we foresaw,” she told him. “Everything in here is completely disposable.” The house itself wouldn't stand up to a too hard storm without all the magical reinforcements put on it, and the furniture was at least three decades out of fashion and didn't look like it had cost much to begin with. “I'll wait in the tunnel until morning, then escort you back to the castle.”

This piece of news caused Lupin to look terrified at her. “No! You can't! Go back to the school! I don't – I don't want to hurt you, professor.” His eyes were welling up with tears and he quickly looked down on the floor again.

“You won't,” she said, forcefully reminding herself to be patient. “The trap door locks from down in the tunnel and I will transform into a cat again. Werewolves don't attack animals, now, do they? And should you by some unthinkable means get close to me, I'm not incompetent with a wand.” The boy swallowed hard, then nodded. She gave his shoulder a brief squeeze, then began descending the ladder.

“Perhaps you should take off your robes,” she said when she was halfway down. “They'll get dirty, there are years of rat droppings in here.” Lupin blinked a couple of times, then began pulling the robes over his head and got entangled in them. McGonagall came to his aid and released him from them, revealing a neatly ironed white shirt and grey trousers underneath, his black shoes slightly speckles with dirt from the tunnel. She gave him a reassuring smile, not every student wore ironed clothes, or even clean ones, under their robes.

“I can hold on to these for you if you want to,” she said, but he didn't hear, he was looking out the grimy window on the ever-darkening sky. “It will be all right,” she said before she went down into the tunnel again, folded the robes and put them on the middle step of the ladder, and locked the trapdoor both manually and magically.

  
\---

It wasn't comfortable down in the dark and damp tunnel, but her cat form dealt tolerably with it. What was less tolerable was that she caught herself washing her front legs with her tongue whenever her mind was on other things than the present situation. She didn't think she was particularly dirty despite her surroundings, but she preferred not to ingest fur.

From above came the sounds of growls and howls, chairs being tipped over and large claws on wooden floors, a big body throwing itself at the wall, and sometimes whimpers of fright and shame. The sounds thundered around the house, sometimes more muffled from the furthest rooms, sometimes right above her.

She had taken a watch out of her pocket and laid it on the floor before transforming, but even with her cat eyes she could only make out roughly what time it was. It wasn't too important, as she could tell when it was over by the lack of noise. A look at the watch only confirmed the sun had risen.

She transformed back into a human and stretched her back and arms, she had been sitting too still for too long, and picked up the robes before going up the rickety ladder.

“Mr. Lupin?” she called and shaded her eyes, even the glum light in the house seemed intense after the dark of the tunnel. “Mr. Lupin?” she repeated louder as she went into the living room. She found one of his shoes which had looked so new the night before reduced to leathery tatters. The couch had deep gouge marks and a few springs stuck out of the stuffing, and a rag of blood-splattered white fabric was hanging off a lamp like an attempt at a gruesome garland.

“Mr. Lupin!” She went quickly back to the hall and began searching the other rooms. “Remus! Mr. Lupin! Remus Lupin!” She found his other shoe in the doorway to a bedroom and took it with her.

He was lying halfway concealed behind the overturned kitchen table, nothing but his pale legs visible from the doorway. She hurried over and threw the robe over him to save him the embarrassment of nakedness as much as for the warmth, his toes were turning blue.

“Look at you,” she murmured as she went around the table and knelt by him. He had a large scratch on his forearm, but it didn't seem to be bleeding any more, and a large bruise was forming on the other shoulder. She didn't know what other injuries were hiding under the robe, but he raised his head slightly.

“Po... Professor,” he said slowly and sighed, pulling the robe up over his shoulder.

“We'll get you to Madam Pomfrey, don't worry,” she told him and patted his hair. He blinked a couple of times, then saw the mangled shoes she had put down on the floor and shot out a hand to take hold of them.

“No,” he moaned and looked frightened at them.

“I can mend them, they'll be as good as new,” she said firmly.

“They were new,” he answered, fisting his hand around one sole. “And my clothes. My Mum'll be angry.” His voice hitched and he began crying, too tired to keep it in. McGonagall knitted her brow and shook her head.

“I should have thought to save more than your robes,” she said and gave him her handkerchief. He took it automatically and pressed it to his eyes. “I'm afraid your clothes are too far gone to save, but I'll personally reimburse your mother for them if necessary.”

“No,” he hiccuped and lowered the handkerchief. “I – I know I rip my clothes, it's not your fault.”

“Arguing about whose fault it is is hardly productive,” she said and pushed her glasses up on her nose. “Pokie the house-elf?” she called clearly, and was relieved to see a small, pink creature materialise a few feet from Lupin's head, she had not been absolutely sure she could call on the Hogwarts house-elves off the school grounds.

“Yes, Professor McGonagall?” the elf said softly, looking at her with eyes eager to help, but McGonagall knew Pokie were one of the more intelligent house-elves and didn't trip over herself as much when trying to please.

“This young man is in need of some clothes. His name is Remus Lupin, he's a first year Gryffindor. You'll find his trunk in his dormitory,” she instructed the elf, who simply nodded and disappeared again. “Do you feel well enough to sit up?” she asked Lupin and he nodded before pushing himself into a sitting position with his back to the table and pulled the robe over himself like a blanket again.

“Professor? Thank you,” he said quietly and pulled his knees up to his chest.

“You're welcome,” she answered and picked up the ruined shoes again. She had a quick look over them to see if all of them were there, and it seemed even the laces were present, then performed a silent _Reparo_ on them both. Lupin accepted them quietly and sat cradling them to his chest while they waited for the return of the house-elf.

Once the clothes had been delivered, McGonagall stepped back into the hallway to give him some privacy for dressing, but when the rustling of clothes had stopped for over a minute she turned back to see him kneeling awkwardly and struggling with tying his shoes. She pointed her wand at his feet and the laces quickly tied themselves in even bows and he slowly stood up again, curling and uncurling his fingers.

“Is something the matter?” she asked.

“My fingers are just a bit stiff,” he muttered without looking at her and picked up his robe.

“Are they cold?” Without waiting for an answer she cast a heating charm on him despite the wool jumper he was wearing. “Come, Madam Pomfrey will be waiting for you.”

She shepherded him in front of her through the tunnel, holding her lit wand high, but she didn't think the few times he stumbled were due to lack of light. At the end of the tunnel she disarmed the tree with a quick spell and gave him a push up as he scrambled out of the hole. Gathering up her own robes she hoisted herself out, wondering why the headmaster couldn't have contrived a slightly easier way in and out.

The sky was a pale blue with a thin cloud here and there as they walked back to the castle and she raised her hand in recognition as a large figure waved from the doorstep of the groundkeeper’s cabin. Hagrid didn't know what had transpired in the night, and she really preferred if he didn't find out.

It was too early for most of the inhabitants of the castle to be up and about, but the few students who were cast curious glances at them, wondering what McGonagall wanted with a first year student before breakfast, quickly decided not to think of it after a sharp look from the Transfiguration teacher.

By the time they entered the hospital wing Lupin was barely keeping on his feet and swayed when she motioned for him to wait while she got Madam Pomfrey. A bed was already ready for him and the matron tucked him in before measuring out a spoonful relaxing potion. McGonagall doubted the boy needed help sleeping, but she wasn't the Healer.

“You're a brave, young man,” she told him, standing at the foot of the bed. “Don't let anyone make you think any different.” His eyes were already about to fall shut, but he gave her a small thankful smile before he was off to dreamland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was supposed to just be this one chapter, but it ran away with me and I wrote a lot in a week or two, before getting writer's block and never touching it again. I never finished it, so although I'll upload more chapters, if you don't want a story that suddenly stops with unresolved plot points, stop reading now.  
> This chapter can stand on its' own, pretend there isn't any further chapters.  
> There are some things I want to change in the story, but I just can't be bothered to untangle and re-assemble the story with those things changed, so I'll just leave it as it is.  
> One of those things is the house-elf in this chapter, it feels a bit like fanservice to me now, but maybe it's okay.


	2. Chapter 2

“What did the Healers want with you?” James Potter asked that evening, sitting on his bed with a magazine in his lap.

“Just to see how I was doing,” Remus muttered without looking up from the parchment he was reading. The teachers had written down the day's lectures and practical training for him since they knew he would be in no fit state to attend the lessons.

“I could have told them that,” Sirius Black shot in, lying on his back with his head dangling off the edge of the mattress and looking at the two other boys upside down. “You're one of the best in almost all our classes. At least the best Gryffindor. Certainly the best Gryffindor boy.” He laughed and wrapped an arm around the bedpost closest to him.

“Yeah, the dragon pox hasn't made you stupid or anything,” James agreed. “He's not the best at Potions, though.”

“That's because Potion's for dungheads,” Sirius said. “At least Slughorn's a dunghead.” The Potions professor had been very impressed to have a member of the Black family in his class and seemed to expect great things to come from him, just like all his relatives. Sirius would be quite pleased not to do anything great if it kept him from resembling his stuffy family.

“Or maybe you're a dunghead,” James teased.

“Or maybe your face's a dunghead,” Sirius retorted and stuck out his tongue.

“That doesn't even make sense,” James said after mulling the insult over for a moment. Remus ignored them and put the parchment he had been reading on the night stand and got his wand out.

“ _Wingardium Leviosa,_ ” he said firmly, making the parchment float unsteadily upwards in thin air.

“We already said you're the best, no need to show off,” James laughed and grabbed his own wand. “ _Wingardium Levi_ _osa!_ ” One of the books besides Remus shot into the air like a rocket and smacked into the ceiling, making Remus cover his head with his arms in case it came down just as fast. Luckily it dropped to the floor and he quickly picked it up and dusted it off.

“You did that on purpose,” he accused James.

“Yes,” James grinned as the door opened and Peter Pettigrew entered. “Where have you been?” James asked as Peter dropped his school bag besides his own bed.

“At the library,” he answered, trying to sound casual. “Doing homework.”

“With that Hufflepuff, what's-her-name, Cummins?” Sirius asked and rolled over on his stomach to see Peter better.

“We were just doing homework,” Peter said and got a half-eaten chocolate bar out of his bag.

“Yeah, sure,” James said as Sirius began making kissing sounds.

“Don't mind them,” Remus told Peter as the latter sat down besides him and took a piece of chocolate.

“Peter and Cummins, sitting in a tree,” Sirius began singing and was quickly joined by James.

“You weren't in class today,” Peter said to Remus, trying to ignore the two others, but his round cheeks were growing red.

“Yeah, I had a check-up at St. Mungo's,” Remus answered quietly and grabbed his Potions textbook, rubbing at the scab on his arm under the sweater.

“What did they do? Poke you and stuff?” Peter asked and offered the chocolate. Remus took a piece and half-shrugged.

“Just checked I was all right,” he answered and looked down in the book, but didn't see the text.

“It was probably better than going to a muggle doctor,” Peter said. “They stick needles in you and stuff.” He shuddered at the thought.

“Muggles?” Sirius looked up from the wrestling match he had started with James after insinuations of who Sirius had a crush on. “What do muggles do? They can't heal.”

“They stick needles in you,” Peter repeated. “To get your blood.”

“What do they want blood for?” James asked and tipped Sirius off himself so he could sit up.

“I don't know, they just do,” Peter said rather helplessly and took another piece of chocolate.

“Healers are supposed to stop bleeding and stuff, not cause it,” Sirius said and helped himself to some chocolate.

“They're barmy, muggles,” James said and shook his head. “What do they do if you've got a concussion, chop off your head?”

“That would explain Nearly-Headless Nick, I think he's hit his head one too many times,” Sirius said with a laugh.

“So have you,” James said and pushed him off the bed.

“What was that for?” Sirius demanded and picked himself up.

“Because I could?” James grinned, being rewarded with Sirius throwing himself at him. Remus took another piece of chocolate and put down his Potions book, there was no hope of reading with that ruckus going on.

“Godric's golden goose, are you planning on sending me to St. Mungo's, too?” James panted after several minutes, having been beaten in more ways than one by Sirius.

“Not if you don't send me there,” Sirius answered and slowly let go of him. “You almost broke my arm.”

“You almost broke my neck,” James countered.

“Did Godric Gryffindor really have a golden goose?” Peter asked, making Sirius and James laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a chapter by itself I'm not too happy with this, but it's just the slow start of weaving in the boys' friendship between the full moons.


	3. Chapter 3

Two months later the cold wind was whipping Remus's cloak out of his grasp as he walked alongside Dumbledore across the grounds.

“Professor, you don't have to come with me,” he said and tried wrapping the cloak around himself again.

“Nonsense, it's no problem,” Dumledore insisted, striding towards the Whomping Willow seemingly without noticing the weather. Remus waited for a moment, but when the headmaster didn't stop he scurried after him, and the tree kept still, having been immobilised before it could wake.

Dumledore scooted into the hole between the roots without regards to his robes and was there with his wand lit when Remus tumbled after him.

“Maybe we should make this bigger,” Dumbledore mused, standing with his hat in his hand and still having to stoop to fit in the tunnel. “Your height won't be a problem for some years, but suddenly it is. Boys have a tendency to suddenly shoot upwards.” He smiled down at Remus who gave an uncertain smile back. The headmaster looked around the small tunnel for a few seconds more, then set off down it. Even bending his head he somehow seemed straight-backed and sure of himself.

“Professor, you didn't have to come down here with me,” Remus tried feebly.

“Don't worry,” was all Dumbledore said before they crawled through the trapdoor. “You brought a bag for your clothes?” he then asked, facing Remus and absent-mindedly brushing crumbs of dirt from his white hair and beard. Remus nodded and showed him the school bag he was carrying beneath his cloak. Dumbledore nodded in approval before waving his wand in a large circle, making the temperature climb in the whole house.

“We don't want you catching a cold or something, do we?” he said with a glint in his eye before conjuring a blanket from thin air and handing it to Remus. “I'll wait down there while you undress.” He gestured to the trapdoor and Remus opened his mouth to say something. Dumbledore gave him an encouraging smile.

“You really don't need to wait for me,” he said at last with a pained expression.

“I will be fine, I brought something to read,” Dumbledore answered and went back into the tunnel. Remus stood there feeling rather hopeless for a moment, then slowly began undressing and stuffed the clothes in his bag.

“Professor?” He peeked over the edge of the trapdoor to see Dumbledore sitting on a colourful cushion he had conjured.

“We haven't forgotten anything, then?” Dumbledore said and patted down his sides as if the answer would be in one of his pockets, but kept his eyes on his student. Remus shook his head. “Then we will see each other in the morning.” Dumbledore lowered the trap door, leaving Remus standing there in his underwear and socks with the blanket around himself. He cast a look out of the living room windows and shuffled off to the kitchen, not wanting to be right near the trap door when the transformation began.

\---

As promised Dumledore was there when Remus came to in the morning, lying on the floor of one of the bedrooms. There were pieces of smashed china on the floor and the bedstead had been pushed halfway into a corner.

Dumbledore had already retrieved and mended the blanket, and threw it over the boy before sitting down on the bed. It creaked and Remus stirred slightly, loosely fisting his hand.

“Take your time,” the headmaster said and conjured up two cups of tea, one which he put down on the bedside table. “You look like you've been through quite an ordeal.”

“I'm fine,” Remus mumbled hoarsely and rolled over on his side, revealing a large gouge in his belly. Dumbledore was down on his knees at once and began waving his wand over it.

“I'm afraid I can't do more than stop the bleeding, but your skin is young, it might not scar too badly,” he said when he had done what he could. The slash was still there, but it had stopped bleeding and it wasn't gaping as much.

“It's okay,” Remus muttered and rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand.

“There's tea for you if you want,” Dumbledore said after a minute and patted the spot beside himself on the bed. Remus clambered clumsily up while trying to keep the blanket around himself, but gladly took the cup and they sipped in silence.

“Professor?” Remus asked at length. “You've seen a lot of things, right?”

“I've seen a good deal of things, yes,” Dumbledore answered and looked curiously at him, but Remus didn't elaborate at once.

“Have you...” The boy's voice died out, and he didn't make another attempt.

“I have seen things that have filled me with wonder, and things that have filled me with terror, and sometimes they have been the same thing,” Dumbledore said and finished his tea. “Do you know what one of my favourite wonders to watch is, though? The sunrise.” They both turned to look out the window at the grey and tumbling clouds. “It's different every day.” Remus frowned, the sun wasn't visible at all, and the clouds looked more like they were promising rain than wonder.


	4. Chapter 4

Remus was let out of the hospital wing in time for dinner, but he was still groggy and sat down by some fifth year students instead of trying to find someone he knew. While he was ladling up mashed potatoes without much enthusiasm, someone plopped down next to him.

“If St. Mungo's are that interested in you, they can just keep you,” Sirius said and reached across Remus for a platter of sausages.

“Or they can come here and do their tests instead of keeping you away for a whole day,” James said as he sat down next to Sirius. “Do they think you can just keep missing classes left and right?”

“It's really inconsiderate, James had to take his own notes today,” Sirius said with a smile.

“And you copied them,” James retorted.

“I didn't copy them, I just...” Sirius let the sentence hang as he chewed. “Just looked for another point of view,” he decided after swallowing.

“It's no fun for me, either,” Remus told them and poked at the mash on his plate. “I have to make up the classwork later.”

“See, it is inconsiderate,” James said. “Do they think you'll up and die or something if they don't keep checking you?”

“Just drop it,” Remus said and took a forkful of mash. James and Sirius exchanged looks behind his back.

“They don't think that, do they?” Sirius said in more serious voice than Remus had so far ever heard him use.

“No,” Remus said firmly and began eating faster.

“You can tell us if, you know, it's something bad,” James said and fiddled nervously with his fork.

“Drop it, I said!” Remus exploded and sprang to his feet, leaving his plate half-finished and Sirius and James thunderstruck.

\---

For the next few months the fact that Remus missed a day of classes now and then wasn't referred to at all, although he did catch Sirius and James opening their mouths to say something, then thinking better of it a couple of times.

“I give up!” Sirius pushed the essay he was working on away from himself and glared balefully at it. It was the middle of January and the teachers were starting to expect a bit more from them. “I want a cure for Slughorn,” he added and crossed his arms.

“Maybe there's a poison you can brew in here somewhere,” James said and turned a couple of pages in his Potions book without much enthusiasm.

“I'm not making a potion so I don't have to make potions any more,” Sirius said and cast a look around the common room, ending on Remus beside him. “You've done it, haven't you?”

“Yes,” Remus said evenly without looking up from his Transfiguration essay.

“So?” Sirius leaned closer with a smile. “Can you help us?”

“I'm busy,” Remus answered and looked over to the text book.

“Come on, this is due tomorrow,” Sirius pleaded.

“You should have started it earlier,” Remus muttered back.

“It doesn't make any sense to me anyway, doesn't matter when I started it,” Sirius said. “This is due before the essay you're working on. Please.” Remus looked up at him at last.

“I'll be away the day after tomorrow, I want to finish this now,” he said, although he had a feeling he wouldn't get much work done with Sirius nagging him.

“I won't get away with 'I forgot to do it' to Slughorn again,” Sirius said, still amazed he had got a chuckle from the professor and not detention. Apparently the old geezer found it funny he had 'forgot' to do an essay on forgetfulness potion.

Remus looked from Sirius to his own essay a few times, then put down his quill and pulled the Potions essay towards him to see what his classmate had written so far. Except for his name, it wasn't much. He gave Sirius a fed-up look, then took hold of the Potions book to see if any of it matched up.

“Sirius?” A few minutes had passed and Remus was looking even more fed up with his friend.

“It doesn't make any sense to me, okay?” Sirius said defensively, turning around from looking at a sixth year clicking a ballpoint pen. Remus took hold of one of the pages and pried it apart from the one it was stuck to.

“There's the rest of the discussion on wiggentrees” Remus said in a peeved voice.

“Oh.” Sirius looked sheepishly at him. “Thanks.”

“What even is that?” Remus asked and pointed to the sticky substance on the pages of the book. Sirius responded by picking up the book and licking it.

“Jelly Slugs,” Sirius said before leaned over the book to read. “Or maybe it's poisonous and we have to rush you off to St. Mungo's at once, can't take the risk of waiting.”

“Very funny,” Remus said sarcastically and picked up his quill to finish the Transfiguration essay.

“You're still not gonna tell us why they keep checking you?” Sirius asked.

“I have told you, dragon pox,” Remus said and tried blocking out everything but his homework.

“Dragon pox doesn't make you sick forever. And you're not sick, either,” Sirius countered.

“It's really none of your business,” Remus said quietly. Sirius blew his breath hard out of his nose, but began reading.

“Where did James go off to?” Sirius asked after a minute and looked around the room. “You gotta be kidding me!” He had spotted James across the room, sitting with a group of girls in their own year.

“At least I won't have to help him,” Remus muttered to himself, seeing James lean over the Potions book with Lily Evans.


	5. Chapter 5

Remus gathered his courage and knocked on the door of Professor McGonagall's office and was told to enter after a few seconds.

“Hello, Mr. Lupin.” She gestured to the chair across from her and he walked to it on stiff legs, but didn't quite manage to sit down.

“Professor, I...” He swallowed hard. “I think it's best if I go home,” he said and set his jaw.

“Why?” she asked and furrowed her brows.

“It's – I shouldn't be here.” He blinked quickly a couple of times. “It's better if I go home.”

“If it's – “

“I like it here, I just don't think I should be here,” he said as forcefully as he managed, but his voice still cracked.

“You're doing well in all your classes,” she began.

“It's not that, but I shouldn't be here.” He had fisted his hands.

“If it's about your condition,” she began and the ringing silence told her it was. “Mr. Lupin, you're not inconveniencing anyone. If you fear you're not keeping up with the school work you needn't worry, you're doing better than I would expect most people to do when missing classes.”

“I just want to go home,” Remus said, hearing he was sounding more like he was begging than he liked.

“Have you talked to your parents about this?” she asked and he shook his head.

“I'll stay for the exams and such now, but I won't come back after the summer,” he said, his voice quivering.

“What makes you so sure of this?” she asked instead. He took a deep breath.

“I shouldn't be here,” he repeated.

“Yes, you should,” she argued. “You're a bright young wizard.”

“No,” he countered and almost stomped his foot.

“You are,” she said hard. “Has anyone been telling you differently?”

“No,” he muttered after a moment and all the will to fight seemed to go out of him as he sank down on the chair.

“Please tell me what the matter is so we can stop with these silly games,” she said and adjusted her glasses. He picked at his sleeve and didn't look at her, but she simply leaned back in her chair, prepared to wait.

“Sirius and James keep asking why I'm at St. Mungo's all the time,” he said quietly at last.

“That's hardly their concern,” she said.

“But they keep asking,” Remus said even quieter.

“I'll have a talk with them, tell them to mind their own business.” She picked up a quill and made a quick note to herself.

“They're wondering why,” Remus whispered, his eyes trained hard on his sleeve.

“Are you afraid others are wondering why you are absent?” she asked, and he gave a minuscule nod of the head. “I'll have a talk with all of them.”

“No – Professor, it's...” He twisted his finger into the fabric of his sleeve, not finding the words.

“If you don't want me to...” She raised her eyebrows and he let out a frustrated breath. “We're here to support you. Tell me what you need and I'll do whatever is in my power to see to it.”

“I just want to go home,” he said quietly and closed his eyes for a moment. She stood up and went around the desk to pat him on the shoulder.

“Homesickness isn't unusual, but the school year is drawing to an end. You'll be back home before you know it.”

He sniffled and stood up, but didn't look at her. “Thank you for your time,” he said, the mixture of heartbrokenness and formality in his voice mixing badly. She didn't know what to reply, and silently watched him leave.


	6. Chapter 6

The last full moon of the school year was a week before exams, and Dumbledore was escorting him again. He had given up on protesting, neither the headmaster, McGonagall or Flitwick would listen.

“Oh, we're quite early,” Dumbledore said as he stepped into the sunlit hallway. “I forget how late the sun sets at this time of year.” He went into the living room and sat down on the sofa despite the stuffing poking out of it and gestured for Remus to do the same. “Do you want a drink? Tea? Pumpkin juice?”

“Pumkin juice,” Remus answered, trying not to look at the broken furniture and scratch marks he had left in the course of the school year. At least he could look at the glass of juice he was handed.

“Your first year at Hogwarts is already drawing to an end,” Dumbledore said and took a sip of his own glass. “I hope you found it satisfactory.”

“Yeah,” Remus answered, but felt it wasn't much of an answer. “I've learned a lot and it's been fun,” he added.

“You've made some friends, too?” It sounded as if Dumbledore already knew the answer and Remus just nodded.

“I want to thank you, sir, for – for letting me attend,” he said quickly and gripped harder around the glass of juice.

“Then I want to thank you for choosing to go to Hogwarts,” the headmaster replied.

“I... I don't think any other school would let me in,” the boy said quietly after a moment.

“Why not? You're a good wizard, and smart, too,” Dumbledore said. “If they let anything else cloud their view of that, their lives will be poorer for it.”

“Professor,” Remus said weakly, “it's not just 'anything.'”

“It's only something if you let it be,” the headmaster retorted. “Twenty-nine days out of every thirty you are just the same as every other student at Hogwarts. That is by far the majority of the time.”

“But...” Remus didn't know how to reply.

“If it somehow got out what you are on the thirtieth day, or rather night, I will personally defend your right to an education and a normal life.” He looked askance at the boy, who drew a sigh. “And you do deserve those things. You deserve to eat Cauldron Cakes until you feel sick, play gobstones, sneak out after bedtime and whatever else it is young boys get up to these days.”

“I don't sneak out after bedtime,” Remus said and drank some juice.

“Well, if you ever feel the need to, you're allowed to. You'll still get a detention if you're caught, of course.” Dumbledore smiled at him and Remus returned it hesitantly. “We should probably get ready now. I'm rather looking forward to the reading material I brought, it has an exclusive interview with David Fletcher, the expert on muggles' use of electricity.” He got up and went down into the tunnel, and once he had been handed the bag with Remus's clothes, he shut the trapdoor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like Dumbledore in this chapter, he's the eccentric, warm professor I know from the first books.  
> I won't say his insistence on that Remus's lycanthropy is of no importance is the right way to handle things, as it is basically shutting down Remus's doubts and fears instead of addressing them, but he tries to make Remus see he's not that different from other boys.


	7. Chapter 7

Remus was hugged by his mother the moment she saw him step off the Hogwarts Express at King's Cross, and although embarrassed, he couldn't deny it felt good. There were other mothers hugging their children on the platform, some putting up quite the protest.

“Did you have a good time?” his father asked as he took the trunk from him.

“Yes,” Remus answered as they began moving through the throng of people. He caught sight of a dark head that looked a lot like James's, perhaps it was his father, but he didn't get a good look. He got a decent look at the severe-looking couple standing away from the crowd looking down their noses at Sirius. He tried to look around to see if he could spot anyone else he knew, but the mass of people prevented him from seeing much except the backs of the people closest to him.

“I was planning on making chicken for dinner, is that all right with you?” his mother asked as they neared the exit of the platform.

“Yeah.” He smiled up at her and she took his hand. He didn't object, if nothing else they could tow each other out of the throng.

That evening he found himself sitting with his knees curled up to his chin on the couch watching the telly and feeling warmer through his whole body than he remembered being in months.

“You look happy,” his mother commented when glancing over at him.

“It's good to be home,” he said and smiled at her.

“It's good to have you home, too,” she said and smiled back.

The warm feeling was there for several days and he recounted some of the things he had learned to his mother, being met with amazement. Telling his father in the evenings felt a bit better in a way, or maybe just in a different way, since his father could do magic and had gone to Hogwarts himself.

“Transfiguration is a bit hard, turning one thing into another,” Remus was saying one evening. “Turning a match into a needle wasn't too difficult, though, they're pretty similar.”

“Next time I need to darn your father's socks I'll get out a matchstick instead, then,” his mother said with a laugh.

“Maybe I'll turn that match into an anvil,” his father replied teasingly.

“What would the purpose of that be?” His mother looked puzzled at her husband, but was still smiling.

“Nothing, but anything is possible with transfiguration. Well, almost anything,” he said.

“You're the one who'll be without socks,” she said with a laugh.

The night of the full moon his mother came and knocked on the open door to his bedroom and he looked up from the book he was reading. His happiness at being home had slowly evaporated over the last few days and he put down the book without a word and followed her down to the living room.

“Are you ready?” his father asked and he nodded mutely. It hardly mattered if he was ready or not, it would happen anyway. His mother gave him a tight hug and he put an arm around her, but it didn't feel as good as when he had got off the Hogwarts Express. He knew she looked worried, she always did, so he didn't look at her before following his father into the garden.

The door of the shed creaked when his father opened it and as he looked in on the space that would contain him for the night he thought it looked smaller than he remembered it.

“Professor Dumbledore suggested some more spells I could put on it, just in case,” his father said, but Remus just took off his T-shirt and shorts before going into the shed. The door closed, he heard the click of the padlock as his father locked him in, and he sank down along the wall.

His mother came to let him out in the morning, and he was almost thankful for her waiting half an hour after sunrise. He was chilled to the bone, but he had had some time to gather his wits. Once he was inside he let her fuss over him and apply bandages and band-aids while he began eating the hot porridge she had made, and felt warm and sluggish by the time she walked him to his bedroom.

“Mum,” he said half-annoyed as she tucked him in. She gave him an understanding smile, but didn't stop, and kissed his forehead before leaving. He was too tired to do other than appreciate it.

He spent most of the summer reading, whether the sun was shining or it was pouring down outside. When the weather was good he sat outside in the garden and his mother often joined him, and although they didn't talk a lot he enjoyed it.

“Remus, is anything the matter?” his mother asked him one day in the middle of August, catching him staring out into thin air.

“No,” he said quickly and turned his eyes back to the comic book in his lap, but she wasn't fooled.

“Sweetie, you can tell me,” she said softly. He fingered the corner of the comic book, not really wanting to tell her.

“I'm not sure if I want to go back to school,” he said quietly at last.

“But you've sounded so happy about being there,” his mother said slightly confused. “You've talked so much about what you've learned. I thought you liked it there.”

“I do,” he said and curled his bare toes in the grass. “It's just...” He didn't know how to tell her and the silence beat down on him.

“The other children haven't been mean to you or anything, have they?” she asked and he shook his head. She was quiet for a few moments, then said “Would it be easier to talk to your father about it?”

“I don't know,” he muttered. They both knew his father was much better versed in things magical, but was this really a magical problem? Remus wasn't sure, and his mother was clearly concerned. “I don't think I should be there, because – because of what I am,” he made himself say at last and swallowed hard.

“Remus, sweetie.” She got up from her chair and put her arms around him. “We love you no matter what, but please don't let something like that stop you.”

“I'm not,” he said feebly into her arm. “But what if people find out?” He squeezed his eyes shut, he hadn't expected he would react so hard to the words, but the thought actually scared him. People would shun him.

“Your dad and I will always be here for you,” his mother said and tightened her grip around him.

“I know,” he murmured.

“But you need an education,” she continued and stroked his hair. “Will you please try, for me?” She eased up her hold around him and made him look at her. She had a worried line between her brows, but her eyes were soft with love.

“I...” He looked away from her.

“Just try for a little bit, and if anything happens you can come home,” she said and he nodded slowly. He could try for a little bit.


	8. Chapter 8

“What's your excuse for disappearing this time?” James demanded as he sat down on his bed in the Gryffindor tower. It was late September, but Remus still had the urge to read he had had during the summer, and he put down the novel reluctantly.

“My grandmother is ill,” he answered, having decided he had to change the reason for his absence.

“That sounds like such a fib,” James said and laid down on his bed.

“Why would I lie about that?” Remus said and cast a look down at his book.

“I didn't say you were, it just sounds like a fib,” James answered.

“It's not, she's ill,” Remus said quietly.

“Don't tell me you visited her at St. Mungo's,” Sirius said, having entered together with James and Peter.

“She's still at home,” Remus answered steadily.

“The next time you're gone better be for her funeral,” Sirius said glibly.

“That's not a very nice thing to say,” Peter put in timidly.

“I didn't say it had to be any time soon, did I? Could be ages from now,” Sirius countered. Remus picked up his book again, trying to dissuade them from the subject.

“I hope she gets well soon,” Peter offered and Remus gave him a small, forced smile.

“They're having try-outs for the Quidditch team this Saturday,” James said after a moment and reached for a magazine on his night stand. “I'll be Chaser.”

“You actually have to do the try-out first,” Sirius said and laid down next to him to see the magazine.

“I've practised every one of Harry Jenning's moves,” James said and pointed at the picture of a square-jawed man in the magazine. “They'd be insane not to pick me.”

“Fine, if you're so sure of yourself,” Sirius said and grabbed the magazine. “Any tips for Beaters here?”

“You just swing a bat around,” James said and supported his head on his hand.

“And a broom is just a stick,” Sirius muttered as he turned the pages of the magazine.

“You want to try out for Beater, then?” James said after a moment. “It'll be neat if we were both on the team.”

“My parents would throw a fit,” Sirius said with a grin. “Not only is their son a dirty Gryffindor, he's on the House team.”

“Your parents are mad, thinking Slytherin is better,” James told him.

“You have no idea how mad they are,” Sirius sighed. “At least there's still hope for their precious Reggie.” He made retching sounds at the thought of his younger brother.

“I'll make sure to have a big supply of itching powder to put in his trunk,” James said and nudged Sirius with his elbow.

“I think I'll practise some spells so I can set his hair on fire instead,” Sirius said darkly.

“With your aim I think everyone should be worried,” Remus said, having not been able to get back into his book.

“Are you still on about how I hit your mouse in Transfiguration last year? I was just helping you out, and it turned into a lovely snuffbox!” Sirius said.

“And the fifty other times you've hit something you shouldn't,” Remus answered and ducked back behind his book, although he doubted he would get to read any.

“I've just hit something different to what the teacher told us to,” Sirius said. “Doesn't mean I didn't mean to hit it.”

“Right,” James said sceptically.

“Like you're any better, your potion almost crawled out of the cauldron by itself on Monday,” Sirius huffed.

“Wish I knew how I managed that,” James said with a thoughtful smile.

“It's a miracle you haven't hurt yourself somehow yet,” Remus told them both, but couldn't keep the corner of his mouth from tugging upwards; although James and Sirius were forces of chaos both intentionally and on accident, their antics were certainly entertaining to watch.

“But if we do, you'll come visit us at St. Mungo's, right?” Sirius said innocently, then broke into a grin.

“Could you try to be serious for a moment?” Remus asked exasperated.

“I'm always Sirius,” Sirius quipped back, making Remus slam his book down in his lap. “But if it's that important to you, I'll pay more attention,” he added.

“Just try not to hit anyone with a knock-back jinx because you never know where your wand is pointing,” Remus said and picked up his book again.

“Hmm, maybe I should use that on my brother,” Sirius mused.

“He's not gonna be here for another year, we have more pressing matters,” James said, having been studying a page in his magazine both sideways and upside down. “You're coming to watch the try-outs,” he told Remus and Peter.

“Not if it's raining,” Remus said and gave up the book as a lost cause for now.

“It's Scotland, when is it not raining?” James answered.

“It's not raining right now,” Peter said, looking up from the letter he had been writing while following the conversation.

“The try-outs aren't now, so that's not helping,” James said and turned over on his back. “Anyway, it would be better if it was raining during the try-outs, shows who can handle rough conditions.”

“It would make spotting the Snitch really hard for the Seekers,” Peter said quietly.

“It's not supposed to be easy, that's why it's worth a hundred and fifty points,” James said with a grin. “Anyway, the longer we have to score, the better. It's no fun if the game ends after five minutes.”

“You can't be hoping for a bad Seeker?” Sirius asked.

“I'm just saying a good Seeker isn't everything,” James replied. “Just look at Puddlemere United. Great Seeker, bad Chasers, they keep losing.”

“Their Keeper also couldn't catch a cold in Siberia,” Sirius said.

\---

That Saturday started with pelting rain, but since it had subsided to a drizzle by midday, Remus agreed to come watch the try-outs.

“Oh, he's good!” Peter said as they watched a burly fifth year student feint to the right, then score to the left.

“He didn't pass to anyone, though,” Remus pointed out and took another Cauldron Cake from the box between then.

“But he scored,” Peter said, still sounding impressed.

“They're always saying you have to be a good team player in Quidditch, though,” Remus answered.

“Have you been to any games? I mean real games, not school games,” Peter asked after a moment and Remus shook his head.

“My dad just listens to them on the wireless sometimes.” A girl scored on the opposite side and a small group of people lower down on the stands erupted in cheers.

“My dad wanted us to go to a Ballycastle Bats game, but the tickets were really expensive,” Peter said with a sigh. “They were playing against Portree. We listened to the game, the Bats won.”

“My dad sometimes listens to the Bats' games,” Remus said as a fourth year boy forgot to let go off the ball before sending it through a goal hoop, and instead just flew through it. “They're good, but it's not that much fun if they just flatten the other team at once.”

“It's better than losing, though,” Peter said and stuffed a Cauldron Cake in his mouth as James got hold of the Quaffle and did a corkscrew around the fifth year boy before throwing the ball through the left hoop.

“Yeah, but hours of 'And the Bats scored again!' gets a bit weary,” Remus said. James did a little victory lap around the goal area before a girl pointed to him and somehow delivered a message through hand movements, he nodded and they teamed up, flew in a wide ring around the girl who had the Quaffle and snatched it from her. They passed it back and forth with ease until James veered off as they closed in on the goals and his partner scored.

“The Hawkwind is really good,” Peter said with admiration as James and the girl teamed up again. Not only was James's Hawkwind XXI broom good, he knew how to handle it, and he dipped down only to come up on the other side a second later while he and the girl sent the Quaffle between them. They both neatly ducked the attempts at thwarting them and James scored with a shout of satisfaction.

The girl seemed to be done with him and signalled for the fifth year boy instead. She played just as smoothly with him, but James was hanging over them. He managed to dive down and knock the ball off its trajectory one of the times it was between them, but the other boy quickly recovered it.

James drifted off to the side as the girl was getting ready to make her shot, but the moment the Quaffle left her hands he was there and caught it with a grin. She smiled back, but Remus doubted she was happy about getting countered like that.

The ball ended up with the floundering fourth year boy again, but instead of attacking him James merely flitted around him and made a few uncommitted attempts towards the ball. The rest of the players were still kept at a distance as every time they made a move towards the ball they would find the tail of James's broom or his outstretched arm in their way. The boy made the goal and beamed.

The captain blew her whistle and the would-be Chasers descended to give room for their Beater counterparts. Remus rubbed his cold hands together before running his eyes over every one of Sirius's competitors for a spot on the team. There were no other second years, but there was a third year student and a couple of fourth years. The sixth year boy called Thorburn looked positively lethal where he was hovering and warming up by swinging his bat back and forth.

“Go Sirius!” Peter shouted and waved excitedly. Sirius spun his broom around and raised his bat in recognition, but quickly turned back to look at the captain releasing the Bludgers. The would-be Beaters scattered, some heading in the direction of the flying balls, others backing off to observe for a moment.

“That's something you don't get on the wireless,” Remus said quietly as one of the fourth years ended up dangling under her broom and holding on with only her legs in an attempt to both hit the Bludger with her bat and not be hammered by it herself. Thorburn swooped in and righted her by pulling her up by the cuff of her neck, then zoomed off to hit the other Bludger so hard Remus thought he could hear the impact from where he was sitting.

“Sirius!” Peter shouted as the ball headed for their friend, and although he hit it before it collided with him, he didn't send it in any useful direction. Leaning forward on the broom, he seemed to give chase to it. He had almost caught up to it after a minute, despite the ball's constant change of direction both by itself and from being hit by another Beater.

“Does he have something personal against it?” Remus said amused as Sirius closed in on the Bludger, tensed his arm and gave it a well-aimed smack. His whole body seemed to be reverberating from the impact and he looked stupidly after it as it headed in a straight line for Thorburn and connected with his elbow, making him drop his bat like the arm had been paralysed.

Peter gasped as the captain picked up the bat and got on her broom to fly up to Thorburn. He was rubbing his elbow, but didn't seem much put off by the encounter. The captain had a furrow in her brow as she talked to him, seeming to ask if he wanted to disengage, but he shook his head and took the bat.

“Look out!” Sirius's voice rang over the pitch. Distracted by the conversation, neither Thorburn nor the captain had noticed the other Bludger headed towards them, but one of the fourth years swooped in at the last second and knocked it out of the way, giving Thorburn and the captain a gap-toothed grin.

Shaking her head, the captain flew off to the edge of the pitch to have a better vantage point than the ground. After another ten minutes she blew her whistle again, but shouted for the ones in the air to catch the Bludgers before descending.

“Do you think Sirius made it?” Peter asked and nibbled on a Cauldron Cake. If he was honest Remus didn't think so, there had been better Beaters on the pitch, but he contained his answer to a shrug.

After giving a small talk, probably telling everyone they had put in a good effort, it was time for the Seeker try-outs. James and Sirius lounged on the grass of the pitch, chatting animatedly.

The drizzle was growing heavier and Remus pulled the collar of his cloak tighter as the Seekers began circling the pitch. Some opted to zigzag now and then, some changed altitude frequently, but they all had their eyes pried for a glimmer of gold, scanning the skies and ground for any hint of the Snitch.

After five minutes no one had seen anything judging from their lack of action, and Remus was growing bored. During the Chaser and Beater try-outs something had at least happened constantly. Peter's hand rummaged in the box for another Cauldron Cake, but it was empty.

After another five minutes, in which Remus discovered his toes were getting very cold, one of the brooms suddenly shot off towards the ground. A few others followed without questioning it, but the girl pulled out of her dive and slowly went back to circling. Whatever she had seen hadn't been the Snitch.

“How long are they gonna keep doing this?” Remus asked no one in particular. “They can't keep at it all night.”

“I don't know,” Peter answered, seeming to scan the pitch as hard as the Seekers. A blond boy had leaned back on his broom, slowly turning his head around to see if the Snitch was higher than him. Not being in luck there, he took a look at the other players instead. A girl in front of him twitched a second before she got her broom to speed up, but it was revealing enough for the boy to have had time to follow her line of sight and they both set off at breakneck speeds towards the middle of the pitch.

The girl, Remus thought he had seen her try out for Chaser as well, initially had a bit of a lead, but her competitor closed in fast and overtook her a few feet before he snatched the Snitch out of the air.

“Got it!” he shouted unnecessary, as the captain and everyone else on the ground had seen the race.

Remus stood up, more than ready to go back to the warm castle.

“Has she said who's on the team yet?” Peter asked, staring intently as the people on the ground gathered around the captain. Remus realised no positions had been announced yet, and even if he would hear it from James and Sirius anyway he should wait for them.

Together with the fifth year boy and a girl that had played quietly but exceptionally, James was given the position of Chaser and he jumped in the air with a whoop. Thorburn and the gap-toothed girl that had prevented him being hit again were chosen as Beaters, and the blond boy who had caught the Snitch was taken as Seeker. Sirius shrugged, not seeming to take it as a heavy loss.

Remus couldn't help but smile as he got to his feet again and headed for the stairs down, Peter following slowly as he didn't seem able to rip his eyes from the scene down on the pitch.

“I did it!” James announced when he and Sirius met up with them. “I did it!” He was still bouncing up and down, then wrapped his arm around Sirius's neck and ruffled his hair.

“Do you mind?” Sirius said and brushed at his wet hair, but took it in good spirits as James picked up his broom again.

“You played well, too,” James remembered to say as they set off towards the castle. “You almost broke that ogre's arm, I would have picked you over him.”

“It's all right, he'll be good to have on the team,” Sirius answered. “Would've been worse if you lost to that girl.”

“But I didn't, I was faster,” James said, still euphoric.

“Your broom was faster,” Remus said quietly.

“Same thing,” James said nonchalantly.

“She could have beaten you,” Remus said.

“But she didn't,” James told him. “It's not my fault if she has a bad broom.”

“It's not hers, either,” Remus muttered.

“Remus, stop being such a stick in the mud,” Sirius said. “Talking of, I think that's what the school broom I got was. Just a stick.”

“You flew great on it,” Peter told him.

“Bad luck,” James said sympathetically as they closed in on the couple walking in front of them.

“You didn't have to pick me,” they heard Thorburn say to the captain as their voices were carried back to them on the wind.

“You were the best there, so yeah, I did have to pick you,” the captain responded.

“You don't have to favour me just because we're related,” he said and dug his hands into his pockets.

“I didn't,” she responded. “Would you prefer it if I picked someone else and we had a terrible season?”

“No,” he admitted. “Everyone's gonna say it's just because we're cousins, that I wouldn't be on the team otherwise.”

“Who? The Slytherins? If you've started listening to their opinions you must have cracked your head seriously,” she said with a laugh. “You were on the team last year and then I had nothing to do with picking you, and I was planning on keeping you anyway, you've saved more than one game.”

“I haven't,” he protested gruffly.

“How about when you knocked out two of the Hufflepuff Chasers last year? Certainly made winning a lot easier,” she told him as they went up the steps to the entrance hall.

“I'm starving,” Sirius said when they walked inside and met the smell of dinner. The three others made a bee line for the great hall, and Remus had to admit some warm food would be good. “Maybe not being on the team isn't so bad if it means I don't have to worry about Bludgers,” Sirius said as he helped himself to pot roast.

“At least you won't accidentally knock me off my broom,” James said and filled his glass with pumpkin juice.

“It was one on one, we were meant to hit each other,” Sirius grumbled.

“I'm just glad you didn't hit me, it looked like it hurt.” James shot a look down the long table and saw Thorburn eating one-handed, the other hand resting in his lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure if I should split this into two chapters or not since the previous chapters have been much shorter, but I think it works as one chapter.  
> I like quidditch, so there's a lot of it coming up in this story. I also first wrote this chapter with James trying out as Seeker until I remembered that is just according to movie canon, and I prefer to go by book canon where he's a Chaser, so I had to rewrite it.  
> It's a bit of a fandom cliché to have Sirius playing Beater, but there's no hint of it in canon, so I went with something in the middle.  
> I know according to canon Remus told his friends he was visiting his sick mother, not grandmother, but he could easily have misremembered twenty years later when he told Harry of it, especially if his mother did get sick at some point. (Which is something I might have started writing at one point and never finished.)


	9. Chapter 9

The temperatures had dropped even further by the full moon in October, and Remus had to watch so he didn't walk too fast for Professor Flitwick's short legs across the grounds.

“I think the wind is trying to topple me over!” the small man said as they closed in on the Whomping Willow.

“Do you need any help?” Remus asked, burying his hands in his armpits for warmth.

“No, no,” Flitwick insisted, leaning against the wind and setting his feet wide as they came to a stop. He rummaged in the pocket of his robes for a moment and came up with the marble he usually used to hit the wood knot on the willow. “Say, why don't you try it,” he suddenly suggested and held out the marble to Remus.

“Professor,” Remus began, but he didn't know how to protest. With this wind the wand might be torn out of Flitwick's hand, so he took the marble reluctantly.

“I use a simple levitating charm, and you've shown how well you know that,” Flitwick told him. “The tricky part is levitating it forward, and at a considerate distance from yourself.” He smiled up at Remus, who nodded and made sure he knew where the knot of wood was before levitating the marble towards it.

As the marble closed in on his target he took half a step forward and Professor Flitwick put a hand on his elbow to stop him getting closer to the tree. With the tip of his tongue between his teeth in concentration, Remus got the marble to hit the knot of wood, but it slid off sideways and into the grass. He let out a breath of disappointment.

“That was very good,” Flitwick said despite this. “Holding a charm at a distance isn't easy. Do you want to have another go?”

“No, you do it,” Remus said and relaxed the hold on his wand when he realised he had it in a death-grip. Flitwick nodded, took out his own wand and the marble bounced out of the grass to press the knot. He held it there as they approached the hole between the roots.

“This is almost becoming a routine,” Flitwick said as he tottered off down the tunnel. “Although not a fun one for you, I imagine,” he added.

“It's fine,” Remus muttered, he knew there was no help for it. The trapdoor was closed, but Flitwick opened it with his wand and Remus climbed up to get ready. The wind was crashing against the thin walls like boulders, but strangely enough the house didn't creak, nor did more than the occasional breeze get through. He had to lie down on his belly to hand the bag of clothes down to the professor, who almost lost his balance when taking it.

“Is that everything?” Flitwick asked to make sure, and Remus nodded. “Then I'll see you in the morning,” he said as Remus lowered the trapdoor.

A loud bang startled Flitwick in the middle of the night. The turmoil had been raging in the house above him since sundown, like he expected, but he had not heard a sound like that before. He looked up at the dirt ceiling, waiting for any sign of what was going on. It wasn't quiet, he could still hear growls, but they didn't seem to roam through the house like they usually did, and there was no sounds of furniture being knocked about, no splintering of wood.

Carefully, Flitwick unlocked the trapdoor and climbed the ladder. He stopped on the top step to listen for a few seconds again before pushing it open, but the hallway was deserted. He held his wand at the ready and his eyes trained on the room as he clambered up on the floor.

He advanced slowly and carefully, and made sure the living room was deserted before going on to the bedroom and then the kitchen. There was no one there either, and he turned to look up the stairs.

The carpet on the stairs had come loose in places and the peeling paint on the banisters resembled giant flakes of dandruff, but Flitwick could hear the growls growing clearer as he went up. He stepped over a smashed oil lamp and almost thought of Vanishing the broken glass when a howl echoed from the room in front of him.

A heavy wardrobe had been knocked over and beneath it a hairy beast was struggling to free itself. It momentarily stopped writhing when it caught sight of Flitwick, then dug the long claws into the floor to pull itself loose, but didn't manage it.

Flitwick positioned himself squarely in the doorway and looked hard into the yellow eyes, hoping to see a glimmer of understanding there, then quickly magicked the wardrobe back on its feet. The beast didn't waste a moment, scrabbled for foot-hold and pushed itself upright on three unsteady legs, the last back leg dragging limply along the floor.

“ _Stupefy!_ ” Flitwick didn't wait for it to leap towards him and the shaggy body was thrown against the opposite wall. “Oh, dear.” He knew he had merely knocked it out, but it might not last long and he retreated hurriedly. By the time he had reached the trap door he could already hear steps above him and he scurried down the ladder.


	10. Chapter 10

Madam Pomfrey had fixed Remus's leg in no time while reprimanding Flitwick for letting Remus walk back to the castle with a fractured thigh bone, the professor should have come and got her to fix it at once. Remus didn't know which side to take, Flitwick had done his best to relieve the pain and support his student on their way back, but it had still not been an easy walk. She didn't let him leave before dinner, but seeing he had a healthy appetite and easily polished off the food he was brought seemed to convince her he was well on the mend.

He left the hospital wing with his empty bag slung over his shoulder, but couldn't keep himself from touching the leg that had been broken every few steps. It felt normal enough, but the memory of his nerves screaming every time he even thought about moving it was still fresh.

“Hey, you've been to the hospital wing?” Remus was pulled abruptly out of his thoughts by Sirius's voice. Sirius, James and Peter were heading towards him in the hallway at a careless saunter.

“Yeah... Had a sore throat,” Remus lied as they congregated. “Where are you going?”

“Gonna take a better look at the hidden hallway we found,” James said and brushed his hand through his hair.

“Which one of them?” Remus asked, intrigued.

“The one we had to scrub cauldrons in detention for,” Sirius replied happily. “You coming with us?” Remus thought for a moment, he should probably get back to the dorm and look over the notes for the day's lessons, but he felt like he had a decent grip on what they were working on in the different classes, and the notes would be there later, too.

“It's full of weird paintings,” James told him as they set off. “Well, not paintings like the ones that's all over this place.” He indicated a portrait of a silver-haired lady surrounded by vines as they passed it.

“They're a bit like paintings in churches,” Peter offered. “My mum has a book with pictures of them, she likes that sort of stuff.”

“I'm being told off for reading comics, and Peter's mother still has picture books,” Sirius said with a laugh and turned to what looked like just another stretch of stone wall.

“It's like in King's Cross,” James said as he followed Sirius through the wall, then stretched his hand back so that his fingers wiggled out of the stone. “I think you can't hear through the barrier at King's Cross, though.”

“You can't,” Remus said as he and Peter joined the other two. Turning around, he was met with the same stone wall. “I think this is just an illusion.”

“It's good, though,” Sirius said and set down through the passage. “We didn't have time to see where it leads last time.”

“It's probably just a short-cut to some classrooms,” Remus said, walking slowly as he examined the paintings and murals on the walls. The figures were made of simple shapes, their faces oval and their billowing sleeves triangles filled with clear colours. Compared to the stuffy portraits and overdone landscapes elsewhere in the castle, they were a breath of fresh air, and he stopped in front of the depiction of a curly-haired man lifting a purple diamond towards the sun before slowly putting it back in the basket in front of him only to repeat the action.

“They don't talk,” Peter said from his side. Remus nodded slowly and noticed the careful writing below the scene of the man with the diamond. It began 'Ye who practice witchcraft,' but the rest had crumbled away except for the word 'nature' on the line below. He gazed back up at the man, still carefully lifting and replacing the diamond.

“You can look at the paintings some other time,” James shouted back to them from further down the hallway.

“Or not at all,” Sirius said as he walked back to them. “I don't know what they're bewitched with, but we ended up standing here for half an hour last time, just staring at a painting.” He gave Remus and Peter a push in the back. “Hey, you have a scratch on your neck.” Remus guiltily put his hand to the red line on the side of his neck.

“It's nothing,” he muttered and headed towards James.

“Your grandmother isn't going crazy, is she?” Sirius asked teasingly. “One of my father's aunts did, she'd attack anyone in the same room as her.” He grinned, apparently finding the notion funny.

“Not Alfreda Black?” James asked, but Sirius nodded. “My father went to visit her once. Came home with a black eye.”

“How did he know her?” Sirius asked.

“Cousin of some sort,” James replied and flicked off a speck of loose paint from a fresco of a brown-robed woman talking to a large assemble.

“You're related?” Peter asked and looked from James to Sirius and back again.

“Probably in five different ways,” Sirius told him morosely and turned to walk backwards, facing the others.

“My family hasn't been as mad about the whole 'only marry purebloods' thing, though. There are some half-bloods, and I think even muggleborns thrown into the family tree. The Blacks are much worse,” James said. “Aren't you your mother's third cousin or something?” he added to Sirius.

“I don't want to think about it,” Sirius answered. “My mother's already got a list of potential wives for me and tried introducing me to some of them at my cousin's wedding this summer. Never mind that their last name is already Black and they were about as fun as a sack of potatoes.”

“A sack of potatoes can be very fun if you put it to the right use,” James offered with a grin. “Like dropping it on Filch's head.”

“I'd rather use a sack of dung for that,” Sirius replied with lifted spirits. “Maybe we could steal some of the fertilizer from the greenhouses.”

“Toft keeps it behind a couple of venomous tentaculas,” Remus pointed out.

“Well, that's just stupid, who would want to steal a load of dung? Apart from us, of course,” Sirius said and stepped on his shoelaces, windmilled his arms as he tried to keep his balance, but went over backwards anyway.

“You all right?” James asked and offered him a hand up.

“Look what you've done, spilled my pure blood!” he said over-dramatically and held his scratched palms towards Remus. “Waah, how will the House of Black ever recover? What will my mother say? The tragedy!” He threw his head backwards and stared hopelessly up in the ceiling.

“Yeah, looks like you'll never recover,” Remus said dryly, but couldn't help but smile.

“I actually should tell my mother, she'll have a fit over how careless I am,” Sirius said and wiped his hands on his robe.

“Over some bruises? She really is mad,” James said as they continued down the hallway.

“That's what I've been telling you,” Sirius replied. “I like Peter's mother better, she keeps sending him sweets.” Peter gave him a bashful smile.

They unconsciously slowed down as the gap between the torches on the walls lengthened, the gloom between them growing deeper. The pictures on the walls were painted with dimmer colours, too, and showed scenes of hangings, crow-filled fields, and people throwing their heads back in agony not unlike the way Sirius had acted out, but there was nothing humorous about the emaciated figures.

The four boys had drawn together by the time they came to the last torch. The light from it barely reached the maroon hangings at the end of the hallway, but they weren't looking at them. In swirling letters of purple ink which looked much newer than the artworks, the message 'Time makes fools of us all' was written straight on the dark stone. The ink seemed to emit a slight glow of its own, making the words stand out despite the poor illumination.

“That's useful,” Sirius said dubiously at length.

“People always offer phrases like that,” James said. “Why couldn't they have written something useful, like 'This way to the library' or something.” Annoyed, he strode through the hangings.

“Where are we?” Peter asked when the three others followed him. Remus recognised the tapestry they had just came out from behind and one of the girls in it waved coquettishly at him while bathing her feet in the small stream.

“This is the third floor,” James said and put his hands on his hips, sounding as if he was personally affronted by their arrival there.

“That doesn't make sense at all,” Sirius said, looking up and down the corridor as if he hoped they were just mistaken. “We were on the first floor and we didn't go up any stairs.”

“I don't think that matters,” Remus said as they slowly spread out. “It's Hogwarts.”

“If they don't need stairs, why do we have to lumber up and down them everywhere else?” James demanded.

“I don't know,” Remus admitted and cast a look at a snoozing wizard in a painting. It was far from as inviting to look at as the paintings in the hidden passage had been.

“They just want to make life difficult for us,” Sirius said as he tried the knob on a pair of double doors. They opened and he turned to James with a mischievous gleam in his eye. James grinned and bounced over to him before they opened the door and Peter stopped squinting at the plaque on a statue of a hump-backed witch to follow them. Remus cast another look at the tapestry of the girls by the stream, wondering if the hallway was accessible at both ends, then joined his friends.

The room they had entered was lined with glass-fronted display cases almost reaching the ceiling, and the three others were crowded around one of these. Both James and Sirius had lit their wands and were studying the medals and trophies, with Peter dividing his attention between their faces and the display.

“Do they give out these awards willy-nilly?” Sirius said. “What does 'exceptional perception' even mean and why is there an award for it?”

“Dunno, but you're related to the captain of the 1907 Gobstones team,” James said, having knelt down to see the shelf beneath.

“Then you are as well,” Sirius shot back as Remus tried leaning over his shoulder to get a look. The shelf was packed with medals and plates, and his eyes quickly scanned over them before Sirius moved over to the next case and he got a better look. The awards there seemed to go back roughly a century, although there wasn't much logic to how they were arranged. A plaque commemorating the leader of Witches For Warbles, a society Remus had never heard of, was next to a statuette of a young man with his wand pointing into the air, the name Lowell Lockwood engraved at his feet. Next were a plate shaped like a miniature round shield with names etched on the rim with the words 'They will not be forgotten' at the centre.

“Hey, I found the Quidditch awards!” Sirius called, having moved halfway down the row of displays. James sprinted to him with Peter at his heels and Remus gave up trying to read the upside-down names on the shield plate.

“Piper, Rigby... Prescott...” James was muttering under his breath as he searched the cabinet, the light of his wand flickering back and forth. “Pettigrew?” This got Peter's attention and he leaned on the case, his nose almost touching the glass. “Or Perrigrew, I can't make it out,” James said and went on searching.

“There's a whole load of Blacks in here,” Sirius said, studying the content of the adjacent cabinet. “Oh, a Weasley. And a Parkinson.” Remus went over to him and followed the light of his wand as he moved it across the display.

“Your family's played a lot of Quidditch, then?” Remus asked. In his opinion the shelf wasn't packed with awards to various Blacks, but the name did pop up here and there.

“Not really,” Sirius said and stood on tip-toe in an attempt to look at the shelf above. “Yours?” Remus shook his head.

“Ah, Potter!” James shouted at last. “Edmund Potter, captain of the Quidditch team in 1892.”

“The Ravenclaw Quidditch team,” Sirius pointed out when he was kneeling besides him.

“Not everyone can be perfect,” James said with a shrug.

“Unlike the two of you?” Remus said dryly.

“I'm glad to hear you think so highly of us,” James said as he got to his feet. “Is there anything else in here worth looking at?” He sauntered off with his hands in his pockets.

“Ugly statues?” Sirius offered and drummed his fingers on a bust of a bald wizard.

“We should leave,” Remus said as he walked slowly around the room, then came to a stop in front of a long list of names. He squinted at it and saw it was a record of Head Boys and Girls. He saw a Head Boys about thirty years earlier had been a member of the Black family, but didn't say anything.

“Yeah, most of this is worthless,” James agreed after a moment. Sirius cast a last glance around the room, then headed for the door with the rest of them.

James and Sirius decided to peak around every corner they turned to make sure Filch wasn't there, something that slowed down their walk back to the Gryffindor tower. The sixth or seventh time they stopped to make sure the coast was clear Remus found himself shifting his weight from foot to foot and wishing they would stop being paranoid when something small hit the back of his head. He raised his hand to the small, burning spot, but before he had completed the motions, two more objects connected with his skull.

“Ow!” Peter winced besides him and they turned to see Peeves with a handful of chalk bits.

“Itty Pettigrew got an owie,” the poltergeist cackled and peppered them with more chalk.

“Peeves!” James welcomed him like an old friend, which Remus reflected wasn't far from the truth. “Since you're here, reckon you could liberate a sack of dung from the greenhouses?”

“Nope,” the poltergeist replied, circling the four boys.

“We're gonna drop it on Filch,” Sirius elaborated.

“No can do,” Peeves said.

“You can't leave the castle?” Remus guessed and Peeves blew an affronted raspberry in his face.

“What if we get the dung, can you drop it on Filch?” James suggested and Peeves's face split into a grin. “D'you know where he is now, by the way?” James thought to ask.

“Filchy is looking for naughty boys out of bed,” Peeves cackled and zoomed off, chanting “Naughty boys out of bed! Naughty boys out of bed!” at the top of his lungs.

“We better get going,” Peter said and set off, but halted when Sirius and James only followed at a leisured speed. Remus figured since they hadn't been caught yet it didn't matter much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like these chapters with the boys getting up to no good. Hopefully you do, too.


	11. Chapter 11

“Gryff-in-dor! Gryff-in-dor!” the crowd around Remus was shouting as the Quaffle was quickly passed between the scarlet-clad players in the air above the pitch, then into the goal hoop again. He was jostled as Sirius sprang to his feet, cheering wildly and waving his pack of liquorice wands around.

“We're leading by fifty points!” Sirius yelled, as if not everyone around him were aware of it. Remus saw Thorburn direct a Bludger towards a Slytherin Chaser who narrowly escaped. James took a wide loop around the pitch, keeping a close eye on his team mates.

“The Slytherins finally got the Quaffle, it's Curtis to Parker, back to Curtis, to Hopkins, and they score!” the commentator announced and a collective groan emitted from the Gryffindor stands.

“Bugger,” Sirius muttered and fell back in his seat to chew on a liquorice wand.

“We're still up by forty,” Peter said hopefully.

“We'll see what happens,” Remus said and took a wand from Sirius's pack. Depending on who caught the Snitch, the game could go either way at this point. The Gryffindor team didn't let the small lapse faze them and James got hold of the red ball by the tip of his fingers and passed it on to the girl Chaser. She ducked as a Bludger headed her way and threw it under her arm back up to James, who soared to the other side of the pitch to deliver it to the fifth year, who pummelled his way through the defence and scored.

The Slytherins got the Quaffle halfway across the pitch before a botched throw sent it back to the Gryffindor girl, she took a chance and flung it over the heads of several people to James, who snatched it easily and zoomed through the maze of people to score.

“A bold move by Gryffindor Chasers Potter and Jenkins,” the commentator said. They were soon leading with eighty, and the few shots Slytherin attempted were expertly handed by the Gryffindor captain in her position as Keeper.

“What are you doing up there, James, admiring the view?” Sirius said a few minutes later. The Gryffindors had taken a break in their offensive play and James was soaring above the main game.

“I thought you would enjoy seeing Slytherin thrown around,” Remus said and watched the gap-toothed Beater on their team slam a Bludger into the Slytherin Chaser Curtis. The boy collapsed on his broom and began spiralling towards the ground, but somehow kept enough control to dismount instead of crashing.

The Slytherins seemed to want revenge for that, because their Beaters became more aggressive, almost keeping the Bludgers to themselves and hurling them wildly at anything that moved, even their own team mates a few times. Despite not having made as many goals, the Slytherins luckily had fast reflexes and avoided them.

“Gryffindor's McKinnon fumbles the Quaffle, Parker catches it and – ah, a lucky save by captain Thorburn,” the commentator said as the other Thorburn on the pitch finally got a chance at a Bludger, only for one of the Slytherin's Beaters to dart in front of him and send the ball towards James.

“Look out!” Sirius shouted in a futile attempt to warn him, but there was no way he would be heard over the roar of the crowd and the whining of the wind. The Bludger hit James hard in the knee and knocked him halfway off his broom, but he righted himself quickly and shot an angry look in the direction the ball had come from. The Slytherin Beater was already gone, but Beater Thorburn was rushing towards him and halted in mid-air, talking brusquely to him. James shook his head while responding and rubbed his knee before speeding off towards the Jenkins girl. He wasn't out of the game.

The game continued for another hour while Gryffindor's lead fluctuated between sixty and eighty points. Both teams had ramped up their attempts at scoring and goal keeping, and even with one Chaser less the Slytherins didn't let the Gryffindors gain much.

Sirius had one of the last liquorice wands stuffed in his mouth when he pointed at the lean shape of the Gryffindor Seeker, who went into a dive by the Slytherin goal hoops. The Slytherin Seeker was halfway across the pitch, but still gave chase. She didn't have a chance and the boy whooped as he waved his fist with the Snitch above his head and the Gryffindor stands erupted in deafening cheers.

Remus was pulled along by Sirius and dragged down the stairs to the ground before he knew what was happening, and he only got to share a bewildered look with Peter before they were hauled through the changing room and onto the pitch. Sirius at last let go of them to throw himself at James in a hug.

“Phenomenal!” Sirius declared before he was pulled off James by Thorburn.

“Yeah!” James agreed just as euphorically.

“Good work,” the captain told him, having congratulated the rest of the team. “Now, off to the hospital wing.”

“What? I'm going to the common room,” James said and limped a few steps forward.

“No, you have to get that knee looked at,” the captain replied.

“It's fine,” James said, but pulled a face as he put more weight on his injured leg. “I'll get it looked at later.”

“Merlin, I hate twelve-year-olds,” the captain groaned. “I'm telling you to go to the hospital wing!”

“What do you think you are, my mother?” James shot at her.

“No, I think I am your captain!” she thundered back, then looked at her cousin for help.

“I'll take you,” the Beater said and put an arm around James's shoulders, but he twisted away. “Stop being a prat,” he said and instead hoisted James up over his shoulder.

“You can't do that,” Sirius objected as Thorburn headed for the changing room while James tried wiggling out of his grip.

“And yet he's doing it,” the female Thorburn said as James began pummelling his fists on the Beater's back. Sirius snorted and stalked after James and Thorburn. Remus tugged at Peter's sleeve and they left, but lost all sight of their friends in the mass of students going up to the castle.

By the time James came through the portrait hole with the Beater, the captain was in a considerably better mood and was even wearing a hat from a Christmas cracker someone had found. Sirius was not quite as happy, having been denied entry to the hospital wing to see James as he would only get in the way of the matron's work.

“The Chudley Cannons are a joke,” James told Thorburn as they neared Sirius, Remus and Peter who were sitting close to the entrance waiting.

“They could come back,” Thorburn said.

“No way, they haven't won a match in years,” James said before noticing his friends. Sirius handed him the Butterbeer he was holding and they shuffled over on the old couch to make room for him, but James didn't sit down, instead he surveyed the room of celebrating Gryffindors. Thorburn made his way over to his cousin where she was sitting in a group of older students who were laughing their heads off.

“Good game,” Sirius said and leaned back. “Pomfrey got your knee fixed?”

“In a jiffy,” James answered. “For some reason she still had to check my temperature and everything.”

“Maybe she was afraid you'd caught a cold, ickle Jamesie-poo,” Sirius snickered and James cuffed him over the head. “Hey, we can't have our star player getting sick,” Sirius defended himself with.

“The whole team played well,” Remus shot in. “We were leading the whole time.”

“But if the Slytherin's had got the Snitch –” Peter began.

“They wouldn't,” James interrupted him. “Yeah, I guess we all played well.”

“Do you know why almost the entire team was changed out from last year?” Remus asked.

“Jenna's been griping about that every practise,” James told them with a nod towards the captain. “Apparently the ones that didn't leave wanted to spend their time studying instead.” He looked like holding that opinion was a sure sign of madness.

“At least it got you a spot on the team,” Sirius said.

“I didn't get to try Jenning's backward feint, but it wasn't necessary,” James said after a moment.

“You used Jenning's moves when the Beaters tried to block you, didn't you?” Sirius said.

“It's the only way to get out of a double-blocking,” James told him. “And I could see they were coming a mile away.”

“I'm going to bed,” Remus said, not fancying sitting in the noisy common room and go over the game in minute detail, he was knackered from the jostling and shouting he had been surrounded by in the stands.

“Already?” Sirius asked, but didn't stop him from leaving.


	12. Chapter 12

“I didn't know our essay on pixies required first-hand experience,” Sirius said as he and James sat down besides Remus in the common room one Sunday in February. Remus blinked stupidly at him as James kicked off his wet shoes. “You look a mess,” Sirius clarified, taking in his friend's pale face, hunched shoulders, and general air of malaise.

“I've a headache,” Remus lied and bent over his Defence Against The Dark Arts book. The sun was past its summit and the full moon was drawing closer with every hour.

“Then give this a rest,” Sirius said and slammed the book shut. Remus gave him a narrow look and pointedly opened it again.

“Fine, have it your way,” James said and stood up. He motioned for Sirius to follow him up to the dormitories and they returned a few minutes later with their own homework.

“I'm not helping you,” Remus said and turned a page.

“Who said we need help?” Sirius said and dropped his Transfiguration book loudly on the table. Remus grumbled to himself and rubbed his forehead before picking up his quill.

“This is close enough to fifteen inches, isn't it?” James said an hour later, holding up his own essay on pixies.

“Sure, if you plan on failing the year,” Sirius said and grabbed it to compare with his own. Both essays were only about ten inches long and he sighed. He read over James's and wrote a sentence at the end of his own, then handed them both over so James could do the same.

“What more is there? We have size, that they can fly, they like switching out sugar for salt,” James summoned up.

“Maybe we should go to the library,” Sirius said in a defeated voice before noticing Remus was gritting his teeth. Both the dark-haired boys broke into smiles, they would get help any second now.

“You forgot their habitat,” Remus grumbled at last. It was only one of many things his friends had left out, but he would be damned if he gave them more.

“Of course!” Sirius exclaimed. “What habitats do they like?”

“It's in the book,” Remus answered in measured tones.

“' _It's in the book,_ _'_ ” Sirius mocked and began turning pages. James instead cast a look around the room in search of any other second year students.

“Bellamy!” he called to the back of a girl closer to the fireplace and she turned, looking slightly bewildered. “Could you help us a bit with the Defence essay?”

“I've already done mine,” she replied, “but all right.” James and Sirius leapt to their feet, hastily gathered their things and bounced over to her and Lily Evans. Remus let out his breath hard and tried concentrating on his work again.

“Oh, for heaven's sake,” Lily huffed loudly half an hour later and Remus rubbed his eyes before looking up from his Herbology book. “You've just written what I said word for word.”

“You said you'd help us,” James said and looked innocently at her.

“I didn't say I'd do your work for you,” she snapped back.

“But –”James began, but she cut him off.

“Some people might think it's fine to just let you copy,” she said and shot a look towards Remus, “but you should put in some effort yourself.”

“We've put in loads of efforts, we've written all of this,” Sirius said and gestured to their essays. She gave him a cold look before getting up and departing for the girls' dorms. “What's her problem?”

“Dunno,” James muttered, looking at the stairs she had vanished up.

“At least the essay's done.” Sirius rolled up his and put it in his bag. “Remus, you done summing up all fifteen subspecies of blue ankle-biters?”

“There's only three,” Remus answered.

“Three common ones,” Sirius replied. “The Cornwall, Devon, and Somerset. Then you have stuff like the Exmoor and Chagford pixie.” Remus looked sceptically at him, but it didn't look like Sirius was joking.

“Then why didn't you write that in your essay?” Remus said after a moment.

“Because it's not important,” Sirius answered with a shrug.

“You could have told me,” James said, looking disgruntled at his own essay. “How do you know that stuff anyway?”

“My father had me read a bestiary,” Sirius answered as he packed up his things again.

“He didn't by any chance have you read anything on plants, too?” Remus asked, hoping he would get to do his Herbology homework in peace.

“Does a book on poisonous leaves count?” Sirius asked as he sat down by Remus again.

“Probably not,” Remus said and picked up his book again.

Amazingly he was not asked too many questions as they did the Herbology essay, both James and Sirius seemed to have taken some of Lily's message to heart for the time being, but their finished results only just met the required length. Afterwards they launched into a discussion of the Quidditch practise James had had earlier and the prospects of beating Hufflepuff in a few weeks, but Remus barely bothered to listen, now he really did have a headache.

When the sun was nearing the horizon he went up to get his cloak and emptied his bag. He threw out a quill that had broken in two and stacked his books haphazardly in his trunk, casting a look out the window now and then. He was still on schedule as far as he could tell.

“Where are you going?” James asked as Remus headed for the portrait hole.

“My grandmother's,” he answered without turning.

“Can't she pop her clogs soon?” Sirius said, twisting around in the chair. “We were gonna check out that weird tapestry on the fifth floor, I think it's hiding something.”

“Do it without me,” Remus told him.

“But you're better at Revealing charms,” Sirius said in a whining voice. Remus pretended not to hear and made his way to McGonagall's office. He wasn't called in immediately when knocking, and when a couple of older Gryffindors stormed out a few minutes later he understood why.

He looked into the office with apprehension, but after stacking the papers on her desk forcefully, McGonagall gave him a welcoming look and he stepped inside.

“Zonko's had a sale on dung-bombs and I can't count the number of detentions I've handed out since,” she said as she got up and fastened her cloak. “I'm glad your friends Mr. Potter and Mr. Black aren't allowed to visit Hogsmeade yet, they cause enough havoc without the help from Zonko's products.” Remus looked impassively at the floor, remembering the hidden passage behind a statue on the fifth floor the four Gryffindors had found leading to the Hogsmead Post Office.

Looking content she had what she needed, McGonagall motioned to him and they set off for the grounds. However, they were stopped in the Entrance Hall by the gigantic form of the groundskeeper.

“Professor,” Hagrid said relieved and effectively blocked the doors for them whether he meant to or not. “It's the hippogriffs, sev'ral o' 'em are gone, I found traces o' blood and Snowflank's workin' herself into a state!”

“Rubeus, I'm busy,” McGonagall said kindly. “You're also capable of dealing with most things in the Forest yourself.”

“This is diff'rent,” Hagrid argued, wringing his large hands. “Something's very wrong. Even the foals are missing.”

“Why don't you go ask Kettleburn or Slinks?” McGonagall suggested, naming the teachers of Care For Magical Creatures and Defence Against The Dark Arts.

“I would, I would,” Hagrid said.“'T's only, they don' know th' forest like you do.” McGonagall looked slightly taken aback for a second, then straightened her back.

“Very well, I can come look at it tomorrow. Tonight I am escorting a student,” she said and gestured towards Remus. Hagrid seemed to notice the boy for the first time, then thanked McGonagall in excess before moving out of the doorway.

“What do you think happened to the hippogriffs?” Remus asked a few minutes later as they walked through the melting snow.

“I'm not sure,” she admitted. “It might be imps or bowtruckles, or something much worse.” Her brows lowered and he didn't pursue the subject, but didn't see how the creatures in question could pose a threat to the much larger hippogriffs.


	13. Chapter 13

“Why do we even need exams?” James complained where he was lying across an armchair with his Astronomy book propped in his lap.

“Yeah, you'd think the mile of essays we've written were enough,” Sirius agreed, lying on the floor in front of the fireplace.

“We've already learned all of this,” Peter said as he continued to flick through his book.

“That's why it's called revising,” Remus said from the armchair next to James and consulted his notes. To be honest he felt he would probably be able to pass his exams without revising too much, but he still felt he owed it to his parents and Dumbledore to do his best to get good grades when most people wouldn't have let him attend school at all.

“I don't care if Andromeda should be plotted three point two inches away from Cassiopeia or not,” Sirius said and laid his head down on his crossed arms.

“At least we know where Sirius is,” Peter said with a small laugh. Sirius looked up at him and the corner of his mouth tugged upwards.

“There are better things to do around here,” James said and closed his book. “We still haven't figured out what's up with that tapestry.”

“It could just be a tapestry,” Remus tried, but knew it was unlikely to work.

“It's not,” Sirius said and got to his feet. “I can feel it.”

“It's an excellent opportunity to practice some charms,” James said and shoved his books down on the floor. Remus gave him an unimpressed look. “You've had your nose in the books all year, you're not gonna find some great revelation in them now.”

“Come on,” Peter said in a pleading tone.

“Fine,” Remus said at length, he almost knew his notes by heart anyway. It wasn't his responsibility if the others flunked.

“I knew you'd see sense,” Sirius grinned.

There weren't many other students out and about, and most of them were older than themselves. Seeing James and Sirius confident strut down the middle of the hallway seemed to dissuade the few prefects from various Houses they met from asking where they were going in favour of worrying over their own exams.

“It would be shorter to cut by the library,” Remus pointed out as James and Sirius headed left.

“Do you want to get caught?” James just asked over his shoulder.

“It would look less suspicious to be heading in that direction,” Remus countered.

“What's suspicious about going for a walk?” Sirius said and Remus admitted defeat for now. Still, after several turns and going down a hidden stairwell he was wondering if the others had any idea where they were going at all.

He came to a halt in front of a tapestry with girls who giggled at him when they noticed him and continued to look out at him from beneath their eyelashes as they went back to washing their feet.

“We know what's behind that,” Sirius droned when he noticed Remus had stopped. When his friend didn't move, he went back and wrapped an arm around his shoulders to get him back in motion.

“You've checked you can enter from this end?” Remus asked, resisting the push and reaching out to pull back the heavy drapery. The wall behind looked like solid stone, but so did the illusion they had gone through on the first floor. He reached out a hand, expecting it to glide seamlessly through, but the rock was no illusion.

“Huh, apparently not,” Sirius said, getting interested. He pulled his wand from his pocket and said “ _Aparecium._ ” Nothing happened and he looked at Remus.

“What about _Exposia_?” James suggested as he and Peter joined them. Sirius tried the spell and nothing happened.

“ _Veder Sorcelle_ ,” Remus tried with the same lack of results.

“This is some seriously good magic,” Sirius said as they all gazed at the unresponsive wall. “D'you have anything more to throw at it?”

“Dungbombs,” James suggested, but Sirius shook his head.

“I read something,” Remus began uncertainly.

“Try it,” Sirius said eagerly at once.

“I don't even know if I'll say it right,” Remus protested.

“Give it a go anyway,” Sirius answered. Remus took a deep breath and mouthed the incantation a few times before raising his wand.

“ _Da-gella Shea._ ” The wall glowed faintly yellow for a moment, causing the four boys to jump back. James gave a small, nervous laugh before pulling himself together and putting a hand to the stone.

“Just as solid as ever,” he said disappointed.

“We know what's back there anyway,” Remus said, giving it up as a lost cause.

“What's the point of a corridor that only goes one way, though?” James said and inclined his head to the side as if it would help unveil a way in.

“Can you ladies help us?” Sirius said to the few girls still visible in the tapestry held aside by James. They only blushed and ran off to the hidden parts of the scene.

“Someone's coming,” Peter suddenly said and looked down the hallway where the sound of steps were coming from. They didn't waste a second and after a panicked glance around James dived for the doors to the trophy room, which were luckily still unlocked.

“Close one,” Sirius breathed as they stood in the dark among the displays with their eyes trained on the doors. One of them stood ajar letting in a thin line of light, and they subconsciously stepped further into the room.

The steps outside stopped in the middle of the corridor and the line of light grew stronger for a moment. Hardly breathing, the boys kept inching backwards and James grabbed Sirius by the elbow to avoid him walking into a large chalice on a rickety table.

“I know you're here,” they heard Filch's voice ring out in a menacing tone and the light from the hallway was obscured by his shadow. Peter turned and ran, followed a second by the three others.

A minute later they found themselves standing between two large suits of armour, heaving for their breaths and hoping the extra dark shadow next to the wall would conceal them. After several long minutes the sound of the caretaker subsided and they began to relax.

“You're gonna get me expelled one day,” Remus said, but couldn't keep himself from smiling at the relief of getting away.

“It was you who wanted to look at that tapestry,” Sirius told him, leaning against the wall.

“Stop acting like a couple of old ladies,” James told them and lit his wand. He gave a low whistle as they saw the room was lined with at least two dozens suits of armour.

“Do you think they protect against hexes?” Peter asked and ran his hand down one metal arm.

“Not much,” Sirius said and knocked on the chest of another suit, producing a tinny sound that rang around the room. James reached up to grab a helmet and opened the creaking face guard.

“They're a bit out of style,” he laughed before putting the helmet on. “How do I look?”

“Like a complete idiot,” Remus said with a laugh as James struck a pose.

“I can't see a thing, either,” he said and tried prying open the face guard, but it caught on something. Sirius went over to him to help, grasping the helmet with both hands. “Ow, you're taking my ear off!”

Something slithered against Remus's leg and he looked down to see a thin cream-coloured cat, its golden eyes blinking slowly at him before it gave a content “Mreow!”

He turned desperately to James and Sirius still struggling with the helmet, but before he could do anything Filch burst into the hall with a satisfied “Aha!”

Chaos erupted immediately as Peter jumped back into a suit of armour, setting off an avalanche of them, Sirius pulled out his wand and shouted “ _Impedimenta!_ ” at the caretaker before pulling James after him as he sprinted for the doors back to the trophy room. They could still hear the suits of armour crashing to the floor as they rushed into the corridor, trying to put as much distance between themselves and Filch as possible.

They skidded to a stop when they rounded a corner and found Professor McGonagall advancing towards them.

“Potter, what is the purpose of that headgear?” she demanded.

“Um, History of Magic,” James invented wildly. “Yeah, I wanted to get a feeling of how things were back in the days of goblin rebellions and what-not.” He nodded, making the helmet clink.

“Take it off,” she said, her lips having disappeared in a thin line, and he obeyed as best as he could, tugging and twisting at it it.

“I think it's stuck,” he admitted after half a minute. McGonagall took out her wand and impatiently Vanished it as Filch came scurrying into the hall with the cat at his heels.

“Professor,” he panted, “these miscreants were in the Armoury.”

“I suspected as much,” she said with a cold look at the boys.

“They reduced the suits to wreckage!” he told her. “And this one assaulted a member of staff!” He pointed accusingly at Sirius.

“You're not –” Sirius began, but was shushed by a hard gesture from McGonagall.

“Mr. Black, Potter, Lupin, Pettigrew.” She gave each of them a hard look as she said their name. “You will wait in my office while I go and determine what damage you've done.” She gave Remus another look he took to mean he was to make sure they were there when she got back, then left with Filch.

“I didn't mean to knock them over,” Peter said timidly.

“They're just looking for a reason to give us detention,” James said and they set off for McGonagall's office. She joined them ten minutes later and Sirius quickly looked up from the bookcase he had been idly inspecting.

“Sit.” She conjured up chairs for them and they took the seats while she positioned herself behind her desk. “There is no permanent damage, which you should thank your lucky star for.” Remus caught James casting a look at Sirius saying he had had enough talk of stars for a lifetime.

“Just give us the time and place,” Sirius said instead, sitting with his arms loosely crossed. McGonagall's lips drew thin again, but she pretended not to have heard.

“It will take hours to right all the suits of armour, not to mention you shouldn't have been there in the first place.” She pursed her lips as James seemed about to say something, but he thought better of it. “That is however not a suitable task for you, it requires attention to detail.” That stung a bit for Remus, but he figured she probably meant Sirius and James more than him. She still didn't deliver their punishment and the room filled with a stifling quiet.

“Professor, I really didn't mean to knock over those suits,” Peter said in a forlorn voice at last.

“That might be,” she answered and took out a fresh sheet of parchment and dipped her quill. “Since you found the Armoury so interesting, though, I think you should spend some more time there. Tomorrow night you will dust and polish all the armour there.”

“They looked clean enough to me,” James mumbled and McGonagall shot him a look over the top of her glasses.

“On second thought, perhaps you have spend enough time there, Mr. Potter,” she said crisply. “You and Mr. Pettigrew can help sort books in need of mending in the library.”

“You're giving us different detentions?” Remus asked surprised, then added a quick, “Professor.”

“Since Black and Potter are the first students I've given detention for their behaviour in detention, yes,” she replied while writing. Remus had to admit she had a point, Sirius and James had found it much more entertaining to squirt armadillo bile at each other than to sort out the potions ingredients that had gone off at their last detention. “Potter and Pettigrew, you will present yourself at the librarian's desk tomorrow evening at seven, Lupin and Black, you will appear here at the same time.”

\---

The following evening Remus had to remind his friends they had detention three times, as James and Sirius were too busy blowing spitballs at people in the common room to listen. In the end a seventh year girl stood up and threatened to use them for Transfiguration practice and they seemed to find it wisest to leave.

“As long as I don't fall asleep during History it'll be a picnic,” Sirius said to the two-way mirror laying on the floor beside him as he polished a boot. The topic of the conversation were the nearing exams.

“You've fallen asleep in half the lessons,” Remus pointed out and rubbed harder at the spot on the shoulder of the armour he was working on.

“Not even you can pay attention to Binns,” James's voice came from the mirror. Remus glanced down at it and only saw the loose pages James was trying to organise in the correct order.

“At least I try,” Remus muttered.

“Transfiguration will probably be something like turning a toad into a pepper shaker,” Sirius mused. “I'll give McGonagall a whole spice cupboard if she wants.”

“As long as we don't have to do _Arresto Momentum_ for Charms,” Peter said morosely from the mirror.

“You could practise on me,” Remus offered, remembering Peter's failed attempts at the spell. “It's not your fault it's impossible to keep Sirius still for two seconds.”

“Hey!” Sirius slapped Remus's knee with his wet rag.

“Thirty pages on hags is a bit excessive,” James said and stuffed a sheet into the bundle he was holding.

“Someone's written about my mother?” Sirius said with a snort.

“I don't know, does your mother skin children alive?” James asked, reading from one of the pages.

“Almost,” Sirius answered gloomily, dipped his rag in the bucket of water by his side and splashed water haphazardly over the boot of the armour.

“Oh, my mother said you should come for a visit over the summer,” James said after a moment. “She told me at Christmas, I forgot to mention it.”

“You might be just good enough for my parents to allow it,” Sirius said quietly. “And if they don't, I'll come anyway,” he added cheerfully as he moved up the leg of the suit of armour.

“Remus, Peter, the invitation's for you too,” James clarified as he opened a new book and began sorting through the pages.

“Dad's been talking about us taking a trip to Germany,” Peter said uncertainly. “It'll only be for a week, though.”

“Good,” James said, not looking up from a gruesome illustration of a misfired spell. “Remus?”

“I don't know,” Remus sighed and stopped polishing. “I'll hear with my parents.”

“You're not angry, are you?” Sirius asked and looked up at him. “For this, I mean,” he added at Remus's puzzled look and gestured to the suit of armour.

“No,” Remus answered truthfully and began rubbing at the glove again. He had more or less expected that their adventure would end in detention, and this was far from the worst punishment he could imagine. He had also enjoyed trying to crack the magic hiding the passageway behind the tapestry, and he was intrigued by why it was so easy to enter from one end while it was impossible to get through the other way.

“Sirius, check this out!” James said and held a page with a picture of a naked woman spread out on a table up to the mirror. Sirius gawked at it for a moment before breaking out in laughter.

“What sort of book is that?” Sirius asked when James turned the picture back to himself.

“It's talking about sacrifice,” he said with distaste after skimming the text under the picture.

“Might be from the restricted section,” Sirius said, having forgotten the rag in his hand.

“This is utter madness,” James said slowly as he flipped through the pages. The sound of a throat clearing nearby made him look up and he tipped the mirror into his lap, where Sirius and Remus could see nothing but his shirt.

“Come on,” Remus muttered to Sirius and moved on to the next suit of armour, he had a feeling they would have to clean all of them however long it took them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The boys getting up to no good is a lot of fun, especially when McGonagall and Filch make an apperance, too. Them reacting to it might be my favourite parts of this chapter, closely followed by everything else.


	14. Chapter 14

Remus stepped out of the fireplace in The Leaky Cauldron and coughed soot. There had been several letters back and forth between his and James's mothers before it had been agreed the Potters could take the boys shopping for school supplies, and Remus had been told in no uncertain terms that if they didn't show up within half an hour he should come home, and not to talk to any strangers in the meantime.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and searched the pub for any familiar faces. About two-thirds of the tables were empty, but there were a good many people simply moving through, going to or from Diagon Alley.

“Remus, over here!” A hand waved at him from the corner and he pushed his way behind an ageing wizard who seemed too engrossed in his conversation with a witch to notice he was blocking the way. He found Sirius and James sitting with a tall man and a woman in a lilac tunic.

“I was starting to wonder if your mother had changed her mind,” James said teasingly.

“She almost did,” Remus admitted and shifted his weight to take it off his right leg. He had sustained a deep gash in the thigh on the full moon two nights before and it twinged now and then.

“It's very nice to meet you,” Mrs. Potter told him with a warm smile.

“It's very nice of you to let me come with you,” Remus answered awkwardly.

“I doubt bringing an entire circus would be much of a change when we're bringing James,” Mr. Potter said and emptied his glass.

“You have your book lists?” Mrs. Potter asked the boys as she got up and they confirmed they did. They had barely entered Diagon Alley before James and Sirius races off towards a sweets shop, and Remus cast a hesitant look at the adults before following.

“Look at the size of that!” James exclaimed and pointed to a glass box with a gigantic chocolate frog, green candy-floss representing moss, and a pool of fizzing lemonade.

“What about those?” Sirius said and pointed to an animated elf figure juggling half a dozen colour-changing caramels. “Or that?” Next to it was cottage model made entirely of caramelised sugar in different hues.

“Glacial Snowflakes! Sugar mice!” James was almost drooling at this point.

“You would think we starved them,” Mr. Potter said from behind them, but he and his wife were also admiring the display before shepherding them into the shop.

Remus thought the two other boys would buy the entire stock of Chocolate Frogs if allowed, but were restricted to fifteen each. Mrs. Potter didn't directly tell Sirius how many he could buy, but he had the good sense to not buy more than James.

“Is that all you're getting?” Sirius asked, eyeing the small box of toffees in Remus's hand as they queued up to pay. Remus shrugged apologetically, but Sirius thrust a handful of Chocolate Frogs at him from a nearby stand.

“You still want the Merwyn card?” Remus said and took three of the boxes.

“Among other things,” Sirius answered airily and stepped up to the counter.

Afterwards they stopped by an apothecary on their way towards Flourish and Blotts, and James was held back bodily by his father when he tried entering Gambol and Jape's joke shop.

“One exploding tea cup is enough,” Mr. Potter said and marched his son away from the tempting display of an instant hair-growing potion in action on a small dog, hiding the animal from view under the rapidly lengthening fur. They reached the bookshop without any more incidents, although Sirius cast a longing look at the window of a thrift store with an old vacuum cleaner and muggle magazines in it.

The shop was filled to breaking point with students and their parents, and it looked like the clerks had given up controlling the pandemonium and were merely ringing up customers as fast as possible. Remus got hold of his books as quickly as he could, reaching under people's arms and over the heads of younger children.

“You got everything?” Sirius asked loudly to be heard over the general babble when they found each other by reaching for the same book.

“Yeah,” Remus answered and hoisted the stack of books better into his arms. “You?”

“Couldn't find the Transfiguration book,” Sirius said and glanced at his book list. Remus inclined his head in the direction of where he had found a pile of them and they navigated towards it, Sirius pushing aside a couple of eleven year old girls in the process. Once they had got Sirius a copy of the book James joined them.

“Are you both taking Ancient Runes?” James asked after scanning the titles of the books they were holding.

“My mother's making me,” Sirius grumbled. “Since I'm taking Muggle studies I figured it was a fair trade.”

“I got away with taking Arithmancy,” James grinned. “It's a bit better than Divination in Mum's opinion. What else are you taking?” he asked Remus.

“Muggle studies and Care of Magical Creatures,” Remus answered and tried rolling his shoulders, his arms were starting to hurt from the weight of the books.

“Sure, if you want your fingers bitten off,” Sirius said and rolled his eyes.

“I'm not gonna get my fingers bitten off,” Remus answered.

“Have you seen the professor, Kettleburn? He looks like he's been the chew toy of a manticore!” Sirius told him.

“I'm taking it, too,” James said. “Figured it'll be fun to see a Niffler's reaction to a Snitch.” At this Sirius divided a pained look between the two of them, then let out his breath hard.

“Where's the book?” he said flatly and stalked off after being pointed in the right direction.

“He didn't sign up for the class,” Remus pointed out, looking after Sirius. James just shrugged, indicating he didn't think that was much of a problem. After paying they joined up with James's parents again and went to a bakery, Mrs. Potter claiming they needed something to eat to recover.

“No, no, this treat is on us,” Mrs. Potter told Remus as he got ready to pay for the slice of chocolate cake he was getting. He accepted mutely and stepped back to let Mr. Potter pay. They found a table by the window and James and Sirius began digging into the treacle tart they had got at once. “Sweetie, you've got something on your trousers.” Mrs. Potter handed Remus a napkin, having already sat down while he was still trying to untangle a chair's legs from the table's. He looked down and saw a maroon spot on his right thigh and slapped his hand to it.

“I'll go clean it off in the bathroom,” he decided and strode off to the back of the bakery where a pair of doors were showing the signs for witch and wizard. He made sure the door was properly locked, then pulled his trousers down to his knees and grabbed a wad of toilet paper.

Most of the gash was still scabbed over but it must have broken up slightly in the bustle at Flourish and Blotts. He really didn't need a complication like this and had no idea how he'd explain the injury if it was discovered. He sank down on the toilet lid and kept dabbing at the oozing blood, wishing it would stop as soon as possible. His breath was shaky and he had to keep himself from rubbing hard at his thigh in frustration, it would only make more of the scab come loose.

It felt like it took a long time for his thigh to stop bleeding, but it might only have been a few minutes. With some luck the others would have found something much more interesting to talk about and forgot all about the blood stain, and not ask about it. When he was reasonably sure the gash had stopped bleeding and wouldn't cause more problems he flushed the paper and took a few deep breaths before going back into the salon.

“Did you get it off?” Mrs. Potter asked as he sat down and he nodded quickly before taking a mouthful of the chocolate cake.

“Are we going to Madam Malkin's?” Mr. Potter asked his wife and she dabbed a napkin at the corners of her mouth.

“James needs new robes at least,” she replied.

“Yeah, I need some, too,” Sirius shot in. “Can't let me wear something I won't trip in, you know,” he added sarcastically and Remus didn't need to ask to figure out it was his mother's opinion he should get new robes.

The chocolate cake did make him feel better and he sat down on a pouffe in the robe shop while the two other boys were getting fitted.

“Can't you take the hem up another half an inch?” Sirius almost begged Madam Malkin.

“You're a hazard to yourself whatever you wear,” James said and stretched his arms out in front of himself to see if the sleeves were even.

“No, you're a hazard to me,” Sirius replied. “He pushed me out of a tree!” he told Remus hotly.

“I did not! You fell!” James objected.

“And I thought you had outgrown such silly games,” Mrs. Potter's voice came from behind a rack where she was looking at dress robes. “You should be glad I could mend his ankle as easily as I could.” Remus looked bemused from Sirius to James and back again.

“Did I tell you I'm staying at their place?” Sirius said. “Got tired of getting shouted at every five minutes.”

“Then you picked the wrong house to stay in,” James muttered and cast a look over at where his mother was admiring an emerald-green robe.

“You mother's a dream compared to mine,” Sirius said as Madam Malkin urged him to stand still. “And she makes great toast.”

“That's the big selling point, her toast?” James asked and shook his head in disbelief.

“I don't have to wonder if it's full of bogeys,” Sirius said.

“Take off the robes,” Madam Malkin told him in an annoyed tone, giving up trying to keep him still and he obeyed gladly.

“I think your mother is a bit too old to put bogeys in your food,” Remus said and caught himself from scratching his thigh.

“But my brother isn't,” Sirius said. “He probably tells the house-elf to do it. I hope he gets sorted into Hufflepuff.”

“He's that useless?” James asked.

“It would probably get Mother off my case,” Sirius said, then smirked. “Maybe I could use _Confund_ _o_ on the Sorting Hat, keep him out of Slytherin at least.”

“Do you want to risk him ending up in Gryffindor, though?” James asked and Sirius's face dropped.

“I know who would be blamed for that,” he said as Madam Malkin handed him his robes to try on and approve the readjustments she had made.

They stopped to buy quills, ink, and other small necessities on their way back to The Leaky Cauldron. A display of foot-long exotic quills was too tempting for the boys not to begin tickling each other with and when Mrs. Potter finally broke them up no one was sure who had started it.

“Do you want to stay here while we go buy some tea?” Mr. Potter asked the boys once they were back in the pub.

“We'll come with you,” James said after a look at his friends. “You won't let us get anything but pumpkin juice here anyway.” His father shot him a monitory look, but didn't say anything.

“When are your parents expecting you home?” Mrs. Potter asked Remus with a glance at the clock on the wall. “It shouldn't take long to buy the tea, but I don't want them to worry.”

“I can stay for a while longer,” Remus told her and they headed for the other exit of the pub.

If James had been hard to hold back in Diagon Alley, it was impossible to do anything but try to keep up with Sirius after he cast one long look up and down the muggle street, then grinned and set off quickly, only stopping for a few seconds by each store window to take in the wonders they held, then quickly moved on to the next one, admiring everything from kitchen appliances and digital watches to musical instruments and gardening tools.

“You'd think he'd never been to London before,” James commented to Remus as Sirius came to a stop in front of a window full of records and leaned close with his hands on the glass, a thrilled look on his face.

“Do you want to have a peek inside?” Mr. Potter asked when he and his wife caught up to them. Sirius was through the door in a flash, but seemed to be overwhelmed and didn't know where to begin as he simply stood in the middle of the shop when the others joined him.

“D'you need help?” the man behind the counter asked.

“We're just having a look around,” Mr. Potter told him in a friendly tone and went over to a stack of jazz records. Remus glanced around for a second, then moved over to a rack of rock LPs and was joined by Sirius a minute later.

“This is too much,” Sirius whispered in amazement as Remus thumbed through the records.

“It's something,” Remus said and skipped quickly over a few of records with cover arts in black and white that all seemed to depict some sort of torture.

“It's great,” Sirius said and picked up an album from the next stack over, tipped the vinyl record halfway out and ran his thumb over it. “It's groovy,” he said after a moment.

“I don't know if I'd call that groovy,” the man behind the counter said before coming over to them. “Good music, though. Want to have a listen?” Sirius nodded frantically and the man took the record from his hands before going over to the record player in the corner. When he put it on Remus wondered if the player was horribly malfunctioning due to the high-pitched tone it produced at first, and the three Potters looked up in surprise. The whining noise gave way to a rhythmic beat of electric guitars and other instruments, and at least Sirius and James seemed captured by the sound, although his parents still looked sceptical. Remus found he was nodding along with the beat, even if the vocals were rougher than anything he had heard before.

“You want it?” the shopkeeper asked with a knowing smile when the song finished and Sirius plunged his hand into his pocket for his money, then froze and shook his head. He didn't have any muggle money.

“What's it called?” Sirius asked instead.

“Crazy Horses, by The Osmonds,” the man told him. “There's an interview with them in one of those,” he added and nodded to a stand of magazines. Sirius nodded thoughtfully and went over to have a look, and the rest of the wizards congregated around him to find the correct one. It didn't take them long and Mr. Potter bought a copy of it for Sirius.

“Thank you!” Sirius said heartfelt when Mr. Potter put away his wallet of muggle money again.

“You're welcome,” Mr. Potter answered in a pleased tone.

The spice shop where Mrs. Potter bought her tea was dark and stuffy, and Remus ended up standing between two aisles with his shopping bags at his feet reading the labels on the paper bags on the shelves in an attempt to identify the smells assaulting his nose and making it itch.

Mrs. Potter chatted with the manager of the shop for quite a while, but at last realised they had to leave. The only one of her companions who wasn't bored out of his mind was Sirius, who was busy fawning over his magazine and didn't look up until James shook him by the shoulders.

“You can visit any time you like,” Mrs. Potter told Remus when they had returned to the pub and he was getting ready to leave by Floo. “And say hello to your parents from us.”

“See you when school starts,” James said with a grin.

“Yeah, see you,” Remus said and took a pinch of Floo powder.

“I gotta get myself one of those,” Sirius muttered to himself with his nose in the magazine, but raised his hand in farewell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and the following chapters of the boys' third and fourth year are perhaps my favourite parts of the fic.


	15. Chapter 15

It was the worst of luck that the full moon was the night before the first of September, and Remus merely stared vacantly out the window on the train ride north. He had even stopped flinching at the bangs coming from his friends' games of Exploding Snap and just let his head thump rhythmically against the glass pane with the movement of the carriage.

In the end he nodded off, but was jolted awake when the train stopped moving. He looked dazed around himself as the three others hauled their trunks from the luggage rack.

“You fell asleep?” Sirius asked and put his trunk down in the seat. “Get changed, quickly,” he said as he hoisted down Remus's luggage, too, already wearing his robes. Remus frowned as his sluggish brain struggled with getting the robes on the right way.

The carriage ride to the castle seemed to take longer than usual and he wished everything would just hurry up so he could lie down, it felt like his joints were filled with sand and his muscles had been replaced by overstretched rubber bands. James offered him a Chocolate Frog, the last of the stash he had brought for the journey, but he shook his head, chewing seemed too strenuous.

“Is that your brother?” James asked Sirius when the first years lined up for their sorting.

“I was hoping the giant squid would eat him,” Sirius answered dismayed, then took out his wand.

The first name McGonagall called was “Black, Regulus,” as there apparently were no Allens or Arlingtons in the year. The dark-haired boy walked straight-backed over to the stool and sat down to get the grubby old hat put on his head.

“ _Confundo,_ ” Sirius said, waving his wand under the table.

“Slytherin!” the hat announced a few seconds later and Sirius swore.

“I already knew he's a snot-rag, but still,” Sirius muttered as his brother was welcomed at the Slytherin table.

The rest of the Sorting passed in a haze for Remus, except when a girl tripped on her way to the stool and scrambled to her feet with her face burning bright red. He still didn't catch what House she ended up in, and frankly didn't care.

“Eat something,” James told him when dinner appeared and dropped the chicken wing he was gnawing on to ladle up stew on Remus's empty plate.

“You look worse than Nearly-Headless Nick,” Peter said with a nod towards the ghost, who caught the remark and turned resolutely the other way. Remus picked up his fork in his limp hand, but mostly just moved the food around on his plate.

“You're not getting sick?” Sirius asked a few minutes later.

“No,” Remus answered quietly.

“Then stop acting like you're at death's door.” He put his hand firmly over Remus's and forced three forkfuls of stew into him despite his meagre protests.

“Jason's the new captain,” someone shouted to James in response to the inquiry he had send up the table earlier.

“Not surprising,” James answered as the puddings appeared. Remus just wanted to put his head down on the table and hope the ache in his bones went away, but took a serving of rhubarb pie after Peter gave him a questioning look.

“Oh, for goodness' sake,” Sirius said grumpily with his mouth full of cake and pointed with his spoon towards the Slytherin table where his brother was in animated conversation with several other in the House and looked like he had the time of his life.

“There's nothing you can do about it,” Peter told him.

“We'll see about that,” Sirius said darkly.

“Hey, Evans!” James called down the table and levitated a dish of towering ice-cream and berries towards the girl. She looked nonplussed at him as the dessert approached her, then gave a shriek and jumped up as he overshot his goal and tipped the ice-cream into her lap.

“You clod!” she shouted at him and wiped at her thighs, hardly noticing the napkins her friends thrust into her hands.

“Sorry!” James rubbed his neck awkwardly.

“They might as well have given a baboon a wand!” She was frantically rubbing at her robes, but calmed down a bit as her friends muttered reassuring things to her, no doubt about how awful James was.

“She's overreacting,” Peter told James, but he didn't seem to be listening.

At the end of the feast Remus half-listened to Dumbledore's speech while supporting his head on his hand and by the time they were dismissed his elbow had slid half a foot towards the middle of the table. He laboriously got up and staggered after the others, hardly noticing his surroundings before he fell onto his bed in the dormitory.

“I'm not taking Muggle studies,” Peter said when the three others got talking about classes. “Mum's muggle-born.” He fiddled with a loose thread in his robes before shedding them.

“But we're all taking Magical Creatures?” James said, sitting on his bed with his hands behind his head. “That's something.”

“Did you get dumped or something?” Sirius asked Remus as he threw himself down beside him.

“No,” Remus answered confused and shifted away from the indentation of Sirius's weight on the mattress.

“You could have had a girl over the summer,” Sirius said with a shrug.

“I didn't,” Remus said and turned his head away from him. Sirius took the hint and moved over to his own bed, joining in on the conversation James and Peter were having. Within five minutes Remus had fallen asleep fully clothed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Remus, having to make the trip to Hogwarts when he's feeling like the train ran him over. At least his friends try to take care of him a bit.  
> And as for Sirius trying to confund the Sorting Hat... Maybe it worked, maybe it didn't. I honestly haven't made up my mind as to if Regulus would end up in Slytherin anyway or not, it's completely open to interpretation.


	16. Chapter 16

“Does anyone know what this is?” Professor Barton asked and held up a light bulb in their first lesson of Muggle studies. He was dressed in a vest over a custard-yellow shirt and chequered trousers, making him look quite different from their other professors, who all wore robes. “This is the greatest invention muggles have ever made!” he declared, ignoring the raised hands.

“He can't have seen much of what muggles make,” Sirius whispered to Remus as the professor touched his wand to the metal base of the bulb and made it glow feebly. Several students 'Ooh'ed.

“Light without flame,” the professor said admiringly. “Without smoke, without soot, without wax everywhere.”

“Muggle devices aren't supposed to work at Hogwarts,” someone said from the back.

“You're right, Miss Hudson, but kindly raise your hand the next time you have something to share,” the professor replied before lowering the tip of his wand slightly so the students could see the leaping strands of electricity he was producing. Sirius raised his hand, but hardly waited to be given the word.

“How are we supposed to learn about muggles, then?” he asked.

“Muggles do more than create funny trinkets,” the professor answered mildly and put down the light bulb on his desk. “However, I do have a collection of muggle paraphernalia in a rented room in Hogsmeade. The village isn't bewitched in the same manner the castle is, muggle devices work down there, and I'd be happy to show anyone who want to sacrifice some of their shopping time.” The whole room lighted up and several people began whispering to each other. Sirius looked like Christmas had come early.

A few minutes later the professor turned their attention to the textbook and the introduction of how muggles and wizards weren't too different.

“How was Muggle Studies?” James asked when they met up with him and Peter for Potions later.

“Fantastic!” Sirius said and leaned against the wall. “I'm almost sad we didn't get any homework.”

“Sure you don't need to stop by the hospital wing?” James said with a mock-horrified look.

“I said 'almost',” Sirius shot back as the door to the classroom opened.

Professor Slughorn seemed exceptionally cheery and decided it would be more interesting for them to make the Confusion Concoction than hear him lecture about it. No one protested, but some of the students seemed apprehensive at trying their hand at it with almost no knowledge of it, while others happily stuffed their parchment and quills back in their bags.

“How fine is finely chopped?” James asked, but lost interest in his daisy roots when Sirius nudged him. Waving his wand under the table, he made a few extra camphor leaves jump into Snape's cauldron while the Slytherin was looking the other way, turning the potion from blue to an ugly yellow. When Snape turned back he yelped and frantically read the instructions in his book several times, then looked suspicious in the direction of the Gryffindor boys. Remus feigned ignorance and continued to stir his cauldron while James bit his lip to keep from laughing as he chopped the roots in front of him.

Snape somehow managed to turn his potion back to blue by the end of the lesson, but it was still too thick and Slughorn didn't seem to think it was good enough. The four Gryffindor boys had all managed it adequately, although they didn't get the praise Lily Evan's got, her potion had just the right glimmering sheen to it according to Slughorn.

“Potter!” Snape pushed James hard in the back as he caught up to them in the hallway. “I know it was you!”

“What was me?” James asked innocently.

“You messed with my potion,” Snape said with an angry sneer.

“You're blaming me for your failure to cook up a simple concoction?” James said and crossed his arms.

“You added extra camphor,” Snape said as if it was damning evidence. “You almost ruined it.”

“If you can't read how many leaves goes into it that's not our fault,” Sirius said, but Snape ignored him.

“Ruining other's work doesn't make yours any less pathetic,” Snape spat at James. They were inches from each other and James pushed him into the wall with a forearm across his chest.

“You want to talk about pathetic?” James said in a low and dangerous voice. “How about you blaming me for every little thing that goes wrong in your life? Do you think I take that big of an interest in a snivelling rat like you?” Snape looked at him with burning hatred in his eyes, but James just gave him another shove into the wall before striding off.

\---

Two days later they had their first Care of Magical Creatures lesson. The professor's desk had been pushed into a corner to make room for a large fire pit and the students at the front began sweating within minutes from the heat.

“Six,” Sirius said tiredly as he took a seat. “Six in runes is a salamander.” He was clearly still not recovered from being pestered into memorising the runic numbers the night before, but Remus couldn't help but smirk to himself as he sat down beside Peter.

“If he's starting us off with salamanders he'll be throwing dragons at us by the end of the year,” James leaned over and said.

“I think you will still be a way away from handling dragons by the end of the year,” Professor Kettleburn said as he hobbled over to stand in front of the fire pit and leaned on his walking stick with his one remaining arm. “Salamanders are no more dangerous than your regular owl. Perhaps less so, as you're not in danger of being hit unaware by their droppings. Now, does anyone know anything about salamanders?”

“They live in fires,” was predictably the first answer.

“So they do, but they can survive up to six hours out of it,” the professor said. “After that things start looking bleak for them, but in a pinch they can get by a little longer with other heat sources.” He nodded to another raised hand.

“They've also got six legs,” another student offered.

“Indeed. If you're ever in doubt about something with salamanders, the answer is most likely six.” He winked at them before nodding to a new hand.

“Their eyelashes are used in some potions,” Lily Evans said confidentially.

“That's correct,” Kettleburn said. “Very few lizards have eyelashes. I'm not sure I know of any other.” He seemed to get lost in his own thoughts for a moment, but quickly gathered himself again and went into a prepared speech about the creatures.

Towards the end of the lesson they were told to come forward and collect a handful of peppers to lure the salamanders out from their snug fire with. It was hardly room for all of them to fit in the circle around the pit, but the salamanders approach at once and gobbled down the treats before sniffing inquisitively at the students.

“I can't have a deformed salamander,” Sirius objected in response to the two and half feet long lizard that had approached him.

“He acts quite the same as the rest of them,” Kettleburn informed him from where he was sitting and stroking the head of a salamander in his lap.

“It's only got five legs!” Sirius said as Remus leaned over him from behind to feed the salamander a couple of peppers.

“Do you think a lack of limbs makes it less of a salamander?” Kettleburn asked with a raised brow. Sirius opened his mouth and looked ready to say yes, he very much thought so, but shut it abruptly when the professor scratched at the stump where his arm should be.

“If I mistranslate the rune I'm blaming him,” Sirius muttered, but gave the salamander a couple of peppers and let it rub its head against his hand.

“Do they often lose legs, Professor?” Remus asked and squatted down to scratch the scaly head of the salamander.

“Not often, but it happens,” Kettleburn answered. “He lost it to a sibling when he was young. They sometimes fight each other, test their strength on each other.” He raised his voice to be heard by the class at large. “I'd like you to write a short essay on salamanders, it doesn't have to be more than eight inches or so, just cover the basics.” As the students stood up the salamanders crept back to their fire and curled up in a heap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written before the Hogwarts Mystery mobile game came out, so the portrayal of Kettleburn is my own invention, and I prefer it to the game version. He's much calmer and has a warmer personality.  
> Professor Barton is entirely my own invention, and his fascination with muggle devices is similar to Arthur Weasley's, but he too has a warm and caring personality. There might be a trend here of what sort of teachers I like.  
> If you have any thoughts on the teachers, feel free to share them in a comment.


	17. Chapter 17

Four weeks into the term Remus was escorted across the grounds by Dumbledore. He thought he heard a giggle from a bush they passed and looked over his shoulder, but as the headmaster showed no sign of caring about it he put it out of his mind.

The leaves on a few trees had tentatively began turning, giving a sprinkling of yellow to the green, but the air held warm and Remus hadn't bothered with his cloak. He was watching the sun crown the sloping tops of the mountains in colour, the hills below already in deep shade, when a thick rod of willow-wood whipped the ground by his feet and he jerked back.

“Oh, I must have misunderstood, I thought you had worked on disarming the tree,” Dumbledore said and folded his hands behind himself. “Flitwick uses a levitation charm to do so, I believe.” Remus wasn't sure why the headmaster didn't just do it himself, but he took the hint and cast a look around on the ground and found a stone the size of his fist.

It went a lot better than when he had tried with the marble and the limbs of the willow tree soon stopped lashing at the air and ground. He lighted his wand before descending into the tunnel and found he had not missed the trailing hair-thin roots hanging from the ceiling, nor the damp smell.

“You must forgive me, my mind was preoccupied earlier,” Dumbledore said from behind him.

“It's all right, Professor,” Remus answered and stepped over an especially muddy patch of the floor.

“Do not excuse it,” Dumbledore said firmly. “Your head could have been cleaved in two. And there are worse forces out there than a temperamental tree.” Remus grunted in reply and reached for the ladder up to the trap door, but the headmaster gripped his arm and looked troubled at him. He was tempted to free himself, but the old eyes held a worry that kept him from it.

“Professor?” he said quietly at last and was released.

“Just a foolish thought,” Dumbledore said lightly and opened the trapdoor with a wave of his wand. Remus climbed up, but as he waited for full dark to fall his mind kept returning to the strange episode.

H e came to himself the next morning with the taste of feathers in his mouth and squinted at the torn pillow in front of him.  He was lying on his arm and released it with an effort.

“I cannot begin to imagine what you go through,” Dumbledore said where he was sitting on the bed, spreading marmalade on a piece of toast, “but I hope my presence in the aftermath offers some small comfort.” Remus's befuddled mind hardly made sense of this and he closed his eyes for a little while before he dragged himself up to sit beside the headmaster. He accepted the toast he was offered and chewed slowly.

“I heard you're studying ancient runes,” Dumbledore said while brushing crumbs out of his beard. “The class isn't as popular as it used to be, but knowledge shouldn't be dismissed just because it's old. Why, some of the commonest spells find their roots in scripture written before Hogwarts was even founded.”

“Tell that to Sirius,” Remus muttered to himself and drew the blanket tighter around his back.

“He might already be aware of it, the Black family is known to have an impressive collection of old writings,” Dumbledore said. “But don't hold his disdain for his family against him, he's merely adapting to life outside the watchful eyes of his parents and stretching the limits while doing so, as so many young men do.” 

“He's stretching my patience,” Remus said and dabbed at a wound on his elbow. It was already clotting.

“Friends sometimes do that,” Dumbledore agreed. “I hope you can forgive them for it.”

“Yeah,” Remus answered quietly.

“I have heard rumours, completely baseless, I'm sure, that you and your fellow Gryffindors take great pleasure in discovering the secrets Hogwarts hold.” Dumledore's eyes gleamed at Remus and he looked sheepishly back. “Apart from a few booby-traps I have never encountered anything harmful in the castle, but I have stumbled over some truly marvellous things.” He Vanished the tray of toast and marmalade between them and got to his feet. “We should be heading back, or Poppy will box my ears.” He gave Remus a playful smile and handed him his clothes.


	18. Chapter 18

“Where does she get all these mice from?” Sirius asked during Transfiguration a few weeks later, holding his specimen by the tail and looking wary at McGonagall. “Every other girl here has a cat, you'd think they would take care of them.”

“Maybe she conjures them herself,” Remus replied and tapped the mouse on his desk with his wand, turning it into a tortoiseshell comb. He picked it up to inspect his work closer and saw the teeth on the comb ended in small claws. He was about to get up to get a new mouse when McGonagall reversed his spell from her place at the front of the room, apparently not about to let her students waste time or be happy with one passable result.

“Or she breeds them in her office,” Peter said and turned his mouse into something that was more hair than hairbrush. He peered at the picture of the desired result in his book while he waited for McGonagall to turn his mistake back into a mouse.

“They're easy to work with, though,” James said, running the comb he had made through his hair. The tortoiseshell pattern was missing, but on the other hand it didn't have any rodent-like features. After a few more attempts, one which included a simple swirling carving on the comb, he grew bored with it and instead directed his wand at McGonagall and neatly turned her hat into a teapot. The professor reached up and took it off her head with measured movements to contemplate the handiwork for a minute.

“Five points to Gryffindor for execution,” she said and turned the teapot back into her hat, “minus ten for insolence.”

“You're taking away points for that?” James said disbelievingly.

“Your mouse is running away, Potter,” she answered simply.

By the end of the class they had got the hang of turning the mice into combs, but refrained from taking the results with them as a souvenir like some of the girls did, and they departed happily in the direction of the Great Hall.

As they passed a familiar corner, Remus slowed down and knitted his brows.

“Are you coming or not?” James asked as Remus came to a complete stop.

“I was just thinking,” Remus said absently.

“A dangerous endeavour,” Sirius said mock-seriously.

“I looked up the spell I tried on the wall behind the tapestry. It's got a longer variant,” Remus said, still looking down the other corridor.

“You're not suggesting we go try it?” James said teasingly. “Goody-Two-Shoes Lupin actually wants to go roaming around when we should be at dinner?” His eyes were gleaming with satisfaction.

“I just want to have a look,” Remus said and set off in the direction of the tapestry without caring if they followed or not, but they did.

“Sorry to disturb you girls,” Sirius said as he pushed aside the tapestry. The wall looked just as solid as the last time, but Remus raised his wand with a premonition that that would change.

“ _Da-gella She_ _a Mo Eof,_ ” he said clearly. The wall didn't glow this time, instead a buzzing noise filled his head. He looked left and right, but the others didn't seem to hear it. He leaned closer to the wall, but the sound wasn't coming from there and he took half a step back. He cast about to see if he could detect the source at all and as he moved past the doors to the trophy room it grew stronger, first to a whispering of voices, then to a hum of them.

“What are you doing?” Peter asked, but Remus held up a hand to silence him and took the last few steps towards an ugly statue of a witch.

“ _Dissendium._ ” He murmured the word spoken in his ear and the hump on the witch's back opened. Sirius and James shared a perturbed look, then leaned forward to look down the hole he had revealed.

“You found something,” Sirius said in a humoured voice. “Not what we were looking for, but I'll take it.”

“What was that spell?” James asked, still looking down the inside of the statue.

“Something I won't use again,” Remus said and shook his head like a dog trying to rid its ears of water. His whole body felt strange and although the whispering had gone the moment he had said the spell to reveal the statue's hollow interior, a shiver went down his back when he thought of it.

“This is deep,” Sirius said, holding his lit wand as far as he reached into the hole. 

“Where do you think it leads?” Peter asked.

“Only one way to find out,” Sirius said, climbed up on the statue and swung one leg into the hole before Remus had time to make a sound of protest.

“It could end in nothing,” he said when he found the words. “It could just be a deep shaft and you'll end up stuck at the bottom of it.”

“Or it could lead to great treasures,” Sirius countered. “Don't be such a pessimist.”

“Besides, we'll get him up somehow if it's a dead end,” James said. Remus snorted, but Sirius swung his other leg over the edge and dropped into the hole.

“Oof!” They heard his voice come hollowly back to them and they crowded around the statue.

“You all right?” James called down.

“Yeah,” Sirius replied. “Just watch your landing.” James climbed up on the statue next and Remus figured since he was the one who had opened it he might as well follow and make sure the others didn't get themselves killed. Plus, it could lead to something interesting.

H e landed at the bottom of the chute on his hands and knees and barely had time to get out of the way before Peter came hurling after him. As he dusted himself  off  he saw they were in a  dirt tunnel  and his heart sank a little.

“Onward, to glory!” Sirius said with a laugh and advanced, ignoring the sounds of critters scurrying away in the dark.

“I hope you find this glory soon,” James said as a lump of dirt fell on his head.

“I don't need to find it, I'm already glorious,” Sirius answered.

“Then we might as well go back,” Remus said, keeping a close watch for anything recognisable in the tunnel. The truth was that it was all moist earth and didn't have a single distinguishing feature apart from being a greyish brown. Visions of how he had scratched marks half an inch deep in the floor, turned over the couch like it didn't weigh more than a penny, left a bloody trail from the kitchen to the living room in his safe house, at the end of a dirt tunnel very alike the one they were now in, it all came to his inner eye in sudden and clear bursts as he plodded after the others, growing more anxious by the minute.

“What did you say to get the statue to open?” Sirius called over his shoulder to Remus.

“ _Dissendium,_ ” Remus answered and Sirius said the word to himself a few times as if committing it to memory.

“Maybe we should write it down,” Peter suggested.

“We don't want just anybody finding this,” Sirius shut the suggestion down with.

In the end Remus had to admit that if they were going to his safe house they would have been there already, they had walked much farther than the length of the tunnel leading there. As he began relaxing he realised his hands were stiff with cold and he closed his fists.

“Ew!” Sirius leaned down to pick up the thing that had made a crunching sound under his foot and came up with the dried-out remains of a spider the size of his hand. 

“Look at that,” James said with a grin. “What is it even feeding on down here?”

“Or what's feeding on it,” Sirius said with a laugh, making Peter hunch his shoulders.

“Maybe we're heading straight for a troll's cave,” James said.

“Or the lair of a hag,” Sirius joined in.

“Or a gorgon,” James went on.

“Or a aufhocker!” Sirius continued.

“A beithir!” James proposed.

“Dragons!” Sirius bellowed, then caught the terrified look on Peter's face. “Oh, pull yourself together.” Peter swallowed and squared his shoulders, but in Remus's opinion didn't look any less scared.

“Where is this going, to London?” James asked impatiently after they had walked for a while longer.

“I wouldn't mind if it did,” Sirius answered, still in high spirits.

“I'm not walking that far,” Peter said as the dirt floor gave way to stone steps, and Sirius and James exchanged grins, this had to lead to something. After what felt like another hour trudging up the steps, Sirius stopped and raised his lit wand to a hatch over his head. They looked at each other in anticipation and crowded together on the small steps before James and Sirius raised the trapdoor a few inches.

“Where are we?” Peter whispered as they looked around at the pallets filling the room. They could hear someone talking in the next room, but it was muted by the walls.

“Honeydukes?” James guessed and lifted the hatch a bit more, making the sweet scents of the room collide with the dank smell of the tunnel in their noses.

“Has to be,” Sirius said with a grin and began climbing onto the floor, but Remus grabbed the back of his robes and held him back.

“What do you think you're doing?”

“Getting my treasure,” Sirius answered and yanked free. He snatched up a pack of twenty Chocolate Frogs, then froze as the conversation stopped and the sound of footsteps came from the other side of the door. He stood there for a second, then launched himself back into the tunnel. They hardly breathed for a minute, but the steps didn't enter the room.

“We should go,” James said and lowered the trapdoor.

“Before we get caught?” Remus couldn't help himself saying.

“We'll come back some other time,” James said with a grin. “And then we're not getting just Chocolate Frogs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The spell “Da-gella Shea Mo Eof" doesn't quite fit in as it's based on Greek or Gaelic or something that is at least not Latin, which is what the canon spells are based on, but I can't be bothered finding an alternative. I've also completely forgot what it's supposed to mean, probably somthing about revealing stuff.


	19. Chapter 19

R emus fastened his cloak and readjusted the shoulder strap on his bag. It had been raining on and off for the last week, not too uncommon for October, but it looked like he might catch a  break in the showers if he hurried. He turned to the door out of the dormitory, his mind half on his unfinished homework.

“Where are you going?” James and Peter swooped in front of the door and blocked it.

“My grandmother's,” Remus responded automatically.

“No,” Sirius said and got up from where he had been lounging on his bed. “I sent a letter to your parents, said you have too much homework.”

“And we do have a huge essay to finish for Care of Magical Creatures,” James backed him up with.

“I'm sure your grandma'll understand,” Sirius said.

“I'm going,” Remus said and tried pushing past James and Peter, but they parried his attempt.

“You always look exhausted when you come back,” James said after pushing him back.

“Is what your grandmother has catching?” Peter said.

“It can't be good for you, visiting her,” James said.

“Your parents shouldn't make you leave school all the time,” Peter said.

“Your granma'll be dead in the end, then it won't matter how much you visited,” James said.

“You're having to make up for lost lessons all the time,” Peter said.

“You'll be worn thin by it all,” James said.

“You hardly eat some days,” Peter remarked.

“And for what? To sit by the bed of some haggard old biddy?” James said.

“I'm leaving,” Remus said annoyed.

“But you're not going to your grandmother,” Sirius said. “And you're not having some secret study session, either, you left all your books.” He pointed with his thumb to Remus's night stand.

“You've been lying to us,” Peter said.

“You think we wouldn't notice?” James said and Remus fisted his hands, the sunset was growing nearer every second.

“Does it matter? Just let me go,” Remus said irritably.

“Does it matter?” Sirius echoed. “We're your friends.”

“At least we thought we were,” James said. They had began circling him like hungry vultures and he began reaching for his wand. “Don't bother, I draw faster than you.”

“You don't understand,” Remus said, distress creeping into his voice.

“We don't understand, do we?” Sirius leered.

“You think we're thick as Bludgers just because we have better things to do than read all day?” James shot at him.

“You have to let me go!” Remus was growing desperate and cast an urgent look at all three of them.

“No, we don't,” Sirius said. “Not until you tell us where you're really going.” Remus glared at him, feeling his palms sweating.

“You can't keep it from us forever,” James said.

“We'll catch you sooner or later, you might as well tell us,” Sirius said self-assured. Remus suddenly lost his temper and had him up against the wall with his wrists in a tight grip before the two others had time to react.

“I can't!” Remus growled in his face.

“You can,” Sirius said, calm despite having his wrists pinned to his chest and his friend's hot breath in his face.

“You disappear once a month,” James said. “We want to know why.”

“Exactly every thirtieth day, in fact. On the night of the full moon.” The last words rolled smoothly off of Sirius's tongue and Remus's hold faltered. “You're a werewolf.” Remus stumbled a step back and his lips grew numb as he stared wide-eyed at Sirius but didn't see him. His heart was hammering in his ears, but his lungs didn't draw breath.

T hey knew. They knew they had a werewolf in front of them. They knew he was a beast, a thing out of nightmares,  a mindless killer, a monster who could attack anyone up  to and including his parents when he lost control on the full moons.  They knew he was a threat to them, to everyone at the school,  and they had to know there was only one way to put a stop to it.

How would they do it?  Simply use a  S tunning spell and then cut his throat? Turn the blood in his veins into ice?  Force a poison down his throat?  Thrust him out the window to be impaled on the  sharp iron pikes  below? Blast him apart limb by limb? Set him on fire and watch as he thrashed helplessly on the floor? And would they hide the body or, more likely, brag about their kill?

H e sank to the floor with his back against a bed and covered his face with his hands, awaiting the blow as the rain began beating against the window again.  His breath was coming in ragged gasps and as the moments ticked by he started wishing they would just do it and put him out of his misery.

A  hand touched his and his whole body tensed.  Whoever it was didn't give up so easily and his hands were pried away from his face to show him Sirius kneeling in front of him.

“What was that about?” Sirius asked.

“I'm a werewolf,” Remus mouthed.

“Yeah, we know,” Sirius answered gently.

“You don't understand,” Remus said.

“No, we understand just fine,” James said. “I've heard the stories.”

“And seen the pictures,” Sirius added. “But it doesn't matter.”

“It matters,” Remus protested weakly.

“It doesn't to us,” James told him.

“You're still our friend.” Sirius gave his hands a small squeeze.

“I'm – I could kill you without knowing it,” Remus said and swallowed hard.

“Only if we're stupid enough to get near you on the full moon,” James said.

“And then I think we'd deserve it,” Sirius said.

“It's not funny,” Remus said.

“No, it's not,” James agreed solemnly. “We don't care what you are, though, you're our friend.” Remus stared at him, at a loss for words. Of all the reactions people could have, this was not one he expected.

“How long have you known?” Remus asked when the waves of fear and confusion had given way to cautious relief.

“For ages,” Sirius answered.

“We've even been telling people you've been at your grandma's when you've just refused to leave the library to throw them off,” James said and leaned against the wall.

“You have?” Remus blurted, making Sirius chuckle.

“Figured you didn't want the whole school knowing,” he said and got to his feet. “The day isn't getting any younger, though, you should get going.”

“And stop crying,” James said mildly.

“I'm not crying,” Remus said and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The boys mean well, but their methods aren't always the best.


	20. Chapter 20

“There you are!” Sirius jumped up and pulled Remus over to the armchairs by the fire the second the latter entered the common room the next evening. “Make sense of this!” A heavy book was dropped in Remus's lap.

“You've been to the library by yourself?” Remus said amused. Madam Pomfrey had held him until seven o'clock, at which point he had lied and said his bruised ribs were much better.

“We're not completely helpless without you,” James said as Sirius pointed to a paragraph in the book. Remus read the part about how the British population of wild kneazles had gone extinct in the 1600s and all that was left were a few traits in some lines of domesticated animals.

“Yeah?” He looked expectantly up at Sirius, it seemed pretty straight-forward.

“And then there's this,” Sirius said and put his finger on a place on the page opposite. “' _Kneazles are common in woodlands and open fields in the south-east of England where they have a good supply of small animals and birds to prey on,'_ ” he read out loud.

Remus furrowed his brows for a moment, then went through the text between the two statements looking for clues. It didn't make any sense for the book to say there were kneazles still living in England if the British population had died out centuries ago. He flipped back a page to see if anything had been said about it earlier in the book but had no luck and began going through the entire chapter with a pealed eye.

As he was pouring over a diagram showing the working of a kneazle's paw and claws the portrait hole opened and Jason Thorburn burst into the room with the air of a thundercloud and a worried-looking fourth year girl at his heels.

“Boneheaded imbeciles!” Thorburn exploded as he threw himself down on a couch and gave the girl a cold look when he noticed she had followed him. “What made you think duelling Slytherins was a good idea?” he demanded.

“They wouldn't leave us alone, they started making fun of us,” the girl said timidly.

“You know why?” Thorburn asked, close to flying off the handle completely. “Because we're playing them in two weeks!”

“I'm sorry,” the girl said, staring at the floor.

“That doesn't get me a full team,” Thorburn snapped at her. He had taken over the position of captain when his cousin graduated at the end of the last school year, but looked like he regretted the decision. James and Sirius shared a quick look, then got up to intervene.

“What happened to the team?” James asked as they sidled over.

“Donaghue landed herself in the hospital wing,” Thorburn told them in a desolated voice, his anger seemed to be ebbing away. “We might have to forfeit.”

“What happened to her?” James asked.

“Merlin knows, she looks like she's been half-turned into a cactus.” Thorburn dragged a hand over his face.

“We can find a new Beater,” James said, sounding sure of it.

“In thirteen days?” Thorburn said and snorted.

“In thirteen seconds,” James said resolutely and put his hand to Sirius's back to present him to the captain. Sirius cottoned on at once, but Thorburn looked sceptically from one to the other for several long seconds.

“You're the one who almost broke my arm,” he said at last, contemplating Sirius's physique.

“Not on purpose,” Sirius grinned and Thorburn continued to ponder for another minute.

“No,” he said at last and James's face fell. “We don't have time to practice with someone new.”

“So you're just going to hand it to Slytherin on a silver plate?” James said. “You're not even gonna try?”

“We didn't have that much of a shot of winning even with Donaghue,” Thorburn said.

“We thrashed them last year!” James argued.

“That's overstating it,” Thorburn said. “We were barely keeping our heads above water.”

“Then we just have to do that again until Duncan catches the Snitch,” James contended.

“And what if Slytherin get the Snitch?” Thorburn said.

“They have the same Seeker, we know he can beat her.” James crossed his arms. The Quidditch captain looked annoyed at him for a few seconds, then deflated with a sigh.

“Fine,” Thorburn said at last, sounding fed up with the nagging. “I'll tell the others we're having an emergency practice tomorrow. You better deliver.” The last was directed at Sirius, then the older boy dragged himself off to the dormitories.

“Great!” James said and slapped Sirius on the back.

“Yeah, now I just have to learn to direct the Bludgers at the right people,” Sirius replied, but didn't sound much concerned. “Have you figured it out yet?” he asked Remus as he sat down next to him again. James had departed to have a talk with the girl who came in with Thorburn.

“Think so,” Remus said and brushed his fringe out of his eyes. “The wild kneazles are pets that have escaped and such.”  
“But only the ones in England, right?” Sirius asked and grabbed the book back. “I saw something about Germany here.”

“Yeah, those are proper wild kneazles,” Remus said and Sirius nodded while picking up his quill again. While Sirius wrote Remus went up to get his own books and notes.

“Do I have to write down everything they eat?” Sirius complained half an hour later.

“Probably not, just write down the most important things,” Remus answered without looking up from his own essay.

“And what's that?” Sirius said and crossed his arms.

“The things they eat the most of,” Remus said and glanced at the book between them before continuing to write.

“You made me take the stupid class, you could at least help me,” Sirius said peevishly.

“I didn't make you take it,” Remus said.

“Do you think I wanted to take an extra class?” Sirius said.

“Do you think I want to listen to your whining?” Remus answered, which made Sirius deflate.

“Point me to the right page at least,” he grumbled and bent over the book. Remus obliged, then turned his attention to his own essay.

“They sometimes kill gnomes, but don't eat them,” Remus offered after several minutes of silence. Sirius gave him a lopsided smile and jotted down the fact.

When they finally rolled up their finished essays and closed the books Sirius stretched his arms and sunk lower into the chair. When he saw Remus take out a different textbook he groaned.

“I'm just checking what you went over today,” Remus told him and found the summary on the day's Ancient Runes lesson the professor had prepared for him.

“We're still on numbers,” Sirius said dismally. “Nine is a hydra.”

“Representing several layers,” Remus said after reading a few sentences. “You'd use it if you want to apply several spells to one item.”

“I was told that earlier today,” Sirius said and closed his eyes. Remus let him be and immersed himself in the runes, adding a few comments himself to the notes he had been given.

As they got ready for bed, James told them what he had learned from the girl who came in with Thorburn. “I didn't get any names, but one of the Slytherins ended up with her toenails growing through her shoes,” he said as he took off his shirt.

“Good,” Sirius said.

“Another one is bald as an egg,” James said happily.

“Do you think Donaghue will be all right?” Peter asked as he pulled on his pyjamas.

“Yeah, she'll be fine,” James answered. “Where did you go off to earlier?”

“Nowhere,” Peter answered evasively.

“You weren't hanging by the Ravenclaw tower like a lost puppy again?” James said accusingly and Peter's cheeks grew red. “Just tell her you fancy her.”

“I don't,” Peter objected.

“Sure,” James answered as Sirius went over to Remus where he was sitting on his bed and pushed the other's hair back. Remus looked quizzically up at him as Sirius drew his brows together before running his thumb across the cuts on Remus's forehead.

“What are you doing?” Remus asked and almost winced as Sirius touched a sore spot.

“Just wanted to have a look,” Sirius said and let go of Remus's hair.

“It doesn't look too bad,” James said and scratched his cheek.

“That's just from running into a door,” Remus told them.

“Did you run into anything worse?” Sirius asked cheekily.

“Apart from myself?” Remus said with a breath of a dry laugh.

“Yeah, that's probably bad enough,” James said and sat down on his own bed opposite Remus.

“How was it?” Sirius asked after a moment.

“Like it usually is,” Remus answered with a shrug. In fact the emotional upheaval before he left the night before had made the wolf even more frustrated and destructive than normal, but he'd rather not discuss it.

“That doesn't tell us a lot,” James said.

“You still haven't told us where you go during the full moons,” Peter pointed out.

“A house down by Hogsmeade,” Remus said and rubbed at his lower arm.

“A house?” Peter said in a perplexed tone.

“It's abandoned, looks like it's about to fall down,” Remus said.

“You're not able to break out?” Sirius asked, sounding a tad disappointed at this apparent lack of strength.

“They've put all sorts of spells on it,” Remus said.

“They don't tie you down or anything?” James asked and Remus shook his head.

“That would just make it worse,” he muttered.

“How bad is it?” Sirius asked.

“Bad enough,” Remus said and pulled up the sleeve of his pyjamas to reveal the long gash there. The three other boys clustered around him and gazed at it in awe.

“Can't Madam Pomfrey heal it?” Peter asked after several long seconds.

“No,” Remus said and covered up his arm again.

“Yeah, werewolf bites can't be healed,” James said.

“That's not from your teeth, though,” Sirius said.

“It's the same with claws,” Remus told him.

“Why do you scratch yourself?” Sirius asked.

“I don't know,” Remus said bleakly. “I can't control it.”

“Does it leave a scar?” Peter asked.

“Sometimes,” Remus admitted.

“Show us,” Sirius said and Remus reluctantly got to his feet and unbuttoned his shirt.

“Did you try to gut yourself?” James said and reached towards the scar on Remus's belly, but stopped short of touching it.

“That must have hurt,” Sirius said as his eyes followed the three parallel lines going over Remus's shoulder and he pushed the shirt out of the way to get a better look. It had actually been one of the shallower injuries he had sustained, but it was only a few months old and still pink.

“This one looks awful,” Peter said and pointed to a scar on Remus's side.

“It's fine,” Remus said and pulled his shirt closed, being an exhibit was getting uncomfortable.

“I'm not fine, I won't be able to sleep after seeing that,” James said and sat down on his bed again.

“No wonder you look like hell when you get back,” Sirius said and dumped down besides James.

“It's fine!” Remus insisted and sat down again. “I'm used to it,” he added more softly as James went to rummage in the drawer of his nightstand.

“That doesn't make it all right,” James said, coming back empty-handed from his search. “I'm out of Chocolate Frogs.”

“So am I,” Sirius said. “The last one had a card of Hufflepuff, and everyone's got three of her.”

“Wanna go down to the kitchens?” James asked.

“Not really,” Remus said and picked at a scab above his eyebrow.

“It's a bummer Madam Pomfrey can't fix you up,” Peter told Remus after a minute of silence.

“She probably could have fixed this,” Remus said and left the scab alone. “I forgot to ask her.”

“Want me to try?” James had already picked up his wand and was pointing it at Remus's face and he lunged to the side.

“No, I'd rather not end up with a pumpkin for a head,” Remus said.

“Don't you trust me?” James said, pretending the comment had hurt him.

“Not as far as I can throw you,” Remus answered with a laugh and sat up again.

“Fine, go around looking like that,” James said and put his wand away again.

“Sorry for giving you a hard time yesterday,” Sirius said and glanced quickly at Remus before looking away again.

“We just wanted you to know we knew,” Peter chimed in.

“We didn't know you'd take it like that,” James said apologetically. “You've been trying hard to keep it a secret.”

“Not just me,” Remus said. “Dumbledore and some of the teachers have gone with me.”

“Dumbledore knows?” Peter said.

“Of course he does, Dumbledore knows everything,” James said in a reproachful tone. “Why are they sending teachers with you?”

“It's just one at a time,” Remus explained. “The entrance is under that murderous willow tree, they deactivate it, then just sit around all night, probably to be ready if I manage to break out.”

“How do they get the tree to stop lashing like mad?” Sirius asked, getting interested.

“There's a button or something on it. Flitwick has a marble he uses. McGonagall does her Animagus-thing, turns into a cat. I don't know what Dumbledore does, it just doesn't attack,” Remus said.

“Do all the teachers know?” James asked, but Remus shook his head.

“I don't think so,” he answered.

“How big are you as a werewolf?” Sirius asked after a moment.

“I don't know,” Remus said, a bit surprised by his own answer. “About the size of a big dog or something,” he guessed.

“I read that werewolves can vary in size, but it didn't say by how much,” Sirius told him. “It would be hilarious if you were the size of a terrier.” All four of them broke into laughter.

“You'd be known as the ankle-biting terror,” James said.

“Or the howling mop,” Peter offered, making them laugh harder for a while until they slowly quieted down again.

“You promise not to tell anyone?” Remus asked after a moment.

“Of course,” James said.

“If you get thrown out we'll fail all our classes,” Sirius said and ruffled Remus's hair.

“Yeah,” Remus said weakly.

“If they try, they'll have to go through us,” James assured him. “I'd like to see them do anything when they've all been turn into teapots.”

“What a blood-chilling threat,” Sirius said and got up to go over to the trunk by his bed.

“And what are you gonna do, wave a list of runes at them?” James shot back.

“Stun them and drop them off in the Forbidden Forest for the creatures there to play with,” Sirius said with a grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of sappiness near the end to make it overly clear the other marauders are on Remus's side, because I'm probably not a good enough writer to do it subtly, and I'm a sucker for characters showing their feelings.
> 
> As for Remus, I think a lot of other chronically ill/disabled people recognise the tendency of other people making a big deal of your condition when you feel it's just part of your life and you'd rather talk about other things. It doesn't mean it doesn't suck and can feel incredibly unfair at times, but at other times it's just how life is for you and people reacting as if it's the worst thing in the world can be tiring. It's weird.


End file.
